10-10-2-Do-Me
by The Token
Summary: AU. Seto Kaiba doesn't care that everyone around him is married, engaged, or in some serious relationship. He's content with his high paying corporate job, cushy lifestyle, and being solo-if only everyone else was. So what if he may or may not call a certain hotline from time to time. Too bad those calls will lead to more than he ever bargained for. (Language and Sexual Content)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 1

Drunk Dialing

* * *

Kaiba stumbled into his apartment before shakily closing the door. He took a deep breath and let loose a small agitated grunt as he attempted to put his keys back in his pocket. He staggered deeper into the dark home and bumped into everything he knew he wouldn't if he just had some light. The lights! Running into his standing lamp, he braced it as if it had wronged him; how dare it sway and almost fall to the hard wood floors. He flipped the switch and the warm golden light stabbed right into his cornea, to bounce around his brain in illuminated pain. He hissed a firm ' _fuck'_ before the room started shifting. He didn't understand what was happening before his couch broke his fall. Seto Kaiba was drunk. Not tipsy, buzzed or 'starting to feel it'—he was past that.

Slowly the brunet was accepting this. He couldn't remember the last time he'd drunk this much. Well, of course he couldn't remember. Everyone knew that if the body took in too much alcohol, the part of the brain that recorded memory shut down and thus there was actually nothing to _actually_ remember. He smirked—even drunk he was smarter than the average Joe and that made him suddenly overconfident. In that confidence he stood up and rocked to the side, only slightly, before somehow making it to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of overpriced water from the fridge and leaned against the appliance ( _not_ because he needed help keeping upright) allowing the cool water to run down his throat. He looked around the kitchen and found it was pristine as he left it if not better.

Kaiba wasn't sure how long he stood there admiring his kitchen but he suddenly found no more water was going into his mouth. He held up the square plastic bottle to the light to evaluate the contents — or lack thereof in this case — before grunting and throwing it, hearing that satisfying jumble of it hitting the recycle bin. A vibration suddenly shot up his leg and he grabbed at the expensive piece of technology in the front pocket of his jeans. Sliding the smart-phone out, a picture of the most annoying person possibly created in history was flashing across the screen. Begrudgingly he answered.

" _Fuck_ _you_..." He slurred before trying to make his way out the kitchen. Deep thunder like laughter crunched through the speaker causing Kaiba to pull the item from his face. "Shut the fuck up."

"Is my dearest cousin drunk?" The voice teased before someone in the background shushed him.

Kaiba smirked as he heard his relative shush them back. "Keep it down Yami. You don't want your _zoo_ to wake up."

"Quit referring to my brood as animals." Another shush sent his way before he once more returned it.

"She _bit_ me."

"My—" There was a garbled sound of dismay.

Kaiba was sure a thrown pillow was the cause of this. "It _drew_ blood."

There was shuffling before the distinct sound of Yami's creaky back door whined in his ear. "I told you, she's going through a phase."

"That's what you say about all of them." Kaiba looked around and realized he made it to his bedroom. He didn't remember planning to go there but hey, at least he made it in one piece. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket, maneuvering the phone as his shirt followed.

"Well maybe if you didn't antagonize her, she wouldn't bite you." Yami grunted before a steady squeaking noise.

Kaiba paused in unbuttoning his pants. "Are you on the swing?"

"No." As if to accentuate the lie, he had the nerve to swing higher, making that whooshing-squeak even louder.

"Whatever." Kaiba managed to get his pants off before falling back on his bed. "What do you want midget?"

"I was simply making sure you made it home safely. It is my duty to check on my men."

"That sounds homoerotic."

"I've always been open-minded as you know."

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "I never should have gone with you or those idiots."

"When will you accept that Joey has made great success for himself?"

"Accepting and admitting are two different things Yami."

"So you accept it but do not wish to admit it?"

"Like how you accept condoms but don't admit to using them?"

Yami actually gave a deep gut laugh before the whooshing-squeak of the swing slowed down. "I can't help that my wife adores my—"

"I'm hanging up." Kaiba hit the end red button and closed his eyes letting out a deep sigh. He really hated Yami. He hated him for being his cousin and he hated him for somehow convincing him (yet again) to attend 'Guys' Night.'

'Guys' Night' always consisted of the same bullshit: Yami called everyone to a certain location; said location was always a hole in the wall or overly fancy, so he never knew what to wear without researching the place first. From there too much alcohol and relationship talk.

Yami never knew when to shut up about his overactive sex life with his wife or the disturbing satisfaction he got whenever he 'watered her lush womb.' Kaiba physically shivered before gawking at Joey going on about his girlfriend's feet and how he liked them in fishnets. Usually those two were more than enough but then fucking Bakura was in town with his British accent and international whoring stories. Some of the stuff that guy was into was enough to peel paint. Why he was even in contact with any of them was an act of modern technology. If only he was into the fad of 'going off the grid.'

Kaiba rolled onto his stomach and blindly reached for a pillow hoping to get some sleep. He wanted to erase all the conversations that occurred that night and he was sure the whiskey he'd been shooting back would gladly do that for him. His face lulled back and forth in the soft cushion of the pillow. "Sleep...sleep...SLEEP damn you." Why wasn't his body listening to his demands?! He was ready to go to sleep and he needed his brain to shut down and allow this.

He propped himself up on his elbows and rubbed his face. He was still too drunk to do any work, which was fine since he was also too lazy to do any activity that required leaving his bed. Shrugging, he reached into the drawer next to his bed and grabbed some lube he kept there and took out a box of tissues. Why even consider other options when he could just do something that would guarantee sleep? Squeezing some of the warming liquid onto the palm of his hand, he slinked it under his Prada briefs and ran his hand up and down that soft column of flesh—soft being the key word. Why wasn't he getting hard? He actually lifted the band of his underwear to inspect his prized possession. It looked as it always did: well-kept and impressive, just like it's owner.

He smirked before snapping the band in place—time to get serious. He really hated how annoying he could be when drunk. Running a hand through his hair, he was reminded of the lube on his hand and hissed another ' _fuck_ ' for this evening's tally. He laid back; hair styled in some weird ode to 'Something about Mary' and really focused on soft curves and hips. He felt a little lift from his prize and snuck a still oiled hand under that black band. Gently he worked his hand back and forth and recalled the last time he got laid. His eyebrows furrowed together as those memory banks seemed to fall victim to the alcohol flood of forgetfulness. Suddenly Kaiba was clicking his lamp on, pulling out his planner and seriously trying to remember the last time he got laid—glasses sitting against his nose and all.

After removing the remainder of the lube from his hand using the tissues, he realized it had been a while since he'd written in 'got laid.' There were meetings, openings, business trips and family obligations. Had he seriously neglected his body? Double taking the tissue box and lube, both were barely used—even they had been neglected! Kaiba wasn't sure if he was either A) Sobering up and realizing how he'd neglected his manly needs or B) Even drunker than he originally thought and realizing how he'd neglected his manly needs. Either way, it was the same outcome. Come. He needed to, _now_. Putting his items away, he got serious—he needed his laptop.

Fifteen minutes later he was reminded of why he hated porn: it was so put on. Between the bleached anuses, poor camera angles and over exaggerated fake orgasms, he was over it before he even looked. Kaiba may have been a man about technology but his goals had always been circled around melding schematics with reality; make something fake as real as it could possibly be. A memory surfaced from under 'Whiskey Falls' and suddenly he was seventeen back in America with Yami.

Kaiba still wants answers of how Yami made it into the Ivy League college nestled on America's east coast as he had. He would have hacked the database — booting Yami before he even updated his passport — if his father hadn't of warned him against it. Instead they both flew over, roomed together — only the first year since they both agreed it was for the best — and created separate circles. He'd never forget when a particular occasion (the craziest, most insane movie worthy party of their lives) caused he and Yami's fathers to fly out just to scold them in person and explain how their credit cards were being revoked, since they weren't being used properly. Like the spoiled rich kids they were, they were both forced to find 'normal people' jobs.

The brunet saw this as a no brainer and immediately went to the IT department. After what the fired manager called a 'hostile takeover,' he ran the department until graduation. However, this is where he and Yami differed. Sure they were both ambitious but in different formats. While Kaiba not only used his technologic talents, he also knew exactly how easy it would be to become his own boss. Yami didn't work like that. He proved this in first getting busted in an underground gambling ring. He'd won so much money, the other students were getting quite annoyed and tried to take him down. Thanks to a tip off (the IT department might as well have been gossip central) Yami hadn't been there for the raid. But Kaiba wasn't about to save his tush again so Yami decided to put another talent to use: sex. After Kaiba explained the dangers of prostituting and stopped him before entering an amateur stripping contest, Yami joined a local phone sex hotline called '10-10-2-Do Me.'

Kaiba hadn't believed him until Yami actually invited him to work. The guy even had the nerve to take a call while he was there. After Kaiba was thoroughly mortified by what he was hearing around him, not to mention from the short boy he hated being related to, he distinctly remembers punching Yami for such torture before the smaller male was punching him back. Security had to remove them and after sweet talking his supervisor (most likely on the phone) Yami secured his job and made good, easy money until graduation.

Even now, the family has no idea what was going on. They all bought the 'working in the library' lie while Kaiba, 'til this day, is still holding on to such blackmail waiting for when he really needs it.

Since his laptop was still up, he curiously typed the learned number and was surprised to see an actual website pop up for the business. He clicked on the link and was pleasantly impressed by the quality of it as well. He was sure if he brought this up to Yami the man would explain how he brought in the money for the fancy site. Such an arrogant _little_ man he was.

Kaiba inspected the quality of the site further and found they now offered instant-message and webcam interactions. Seems they were keeping up with the times while still offering that phone number so many abused. Glancing at his smart-phone left abandoned on his bed he wondered what exactly it sounded like when you called in. He obviously never called Yami at work no matter how many times the man used that line to call him about random bull.

That's when sobering Kaiba popped up—what was he doing? Why wasn't he in bed asleep? What was the point of masturbating? How had any of this come up? Why was he about to call a sex line that his annoying as anything cousin use to work at? His mind recapped the pieces of the night he could remember: Yami going on about his wife's...well, everything; Joey and the tube socks followed by Bakura's disturbing sex stories. That's when it him: these schmucks were all getting tail — on the regular — and he couldn't remember the last time he jacked-off better yet go laid. Sobering Kaiba was getting annoyed now. Of course he remembered the last time he got laid! It was when...wait...when did America get their first black president? Which term was he on?

Okay, it didn't matter! He was going to get laid, right now. Well, kind of? He looked back down at the sex hotline phone number as well as his phone. Should he? He found it pathetic people called Yami for sex in college and even now he still found it utterly pathetic. He wasn't even paying for a live buddy, just a live conversation with someone who visually was below a 5 with a 10 voice. But with his schedule and success, he'd made quite a few sacrifices and companionship was one. He didn't have time to tell who was a gold digger or not or get lucky enough to be 'unofficially betrothed' like Yami. He couldn't even remember the last time he genuinely enjoyed the company of another woman over a nice dinner. Uh oh...was, was Seto Kaiba lonely? Suddenly his apartment felt cold, sterile and too large. He grabbed his phone—he had to.

After hanging up on the sex line twice, he allowed the third time to be the charm and heard a woman trying way too hard to be sexy answer. " _You've reached 10-10-2-Do Me. Enter or speak the credit card number you'd like to use and then press...pound, baby._ " The cheesy music cracking behind the English prerecording surprised Kaiba since he expected someone to actually answer. It wasn't until they had his credit card info (a secret card for embarrassing purchases), confirmed his birthday and gotten the 'sizzling terms and agreement' spouted off to him that he got a human being.

"Hi sexy, my name's Candy and I'm just as sweet."

"Good for you," was the snarky response in English before he could even stop himself.

The woman seemed unmoved by such a response. He could only imagine the craziest stuff she'd heard. "So tell me: are you looking to chat with one of our sexy ladies or strapping men?"

He sat up against his pillows. "Woman."

"Any preferences?"

"Preferences?" Kaiba was yet again impressed, but this time by how well Candy kept that grossly sultry rasp despite however mundane what she was really saying was.

"A fantasy; maybe some spanking or ass-play?"

"The fuck..." Where the hell did he just call?

Candy was probably rolling her eyes at this point. "What kind of _fuck_ , honey?"

"Um..." His eyes scanned around his computer as if he'd find an answer when he spotted his Netflix still paused on an episode of 'Madmen.' "Office role-play..."

"I know just the girl...please hold for your partner." The cheesy sex music was back and Kaiba was still trying to come back from the ass-play comment. What the hell had Yami been doing thirty hours a week? Goodness.

"Greetings."

The voice startled him and he wondered if the call was redirected to some twenty-four hour business, because this woman did not sound raspy and breathy like Candy. "Hello."

"What's your name?"

Incredulously he questioned, "A name?"

"What might you enjoy me calling you?"

A little tingle slid down his back and he wondered what that was. His eyes narrowed and in nearly flawless English he said, "Call me the Chairman."

"Chairman, it's very nice to meet you," she returned in exotically accented English. He shifted in the bed when those R's were rolled so deliciously behind what he was imagining plump lips. "What do you wish to call me Chairman?"

"What do you usually go by?" There was slight hesitation and Kaiba wondered if people always made up some awful name for her.

"My name...my name is Dahlia." She didn't give him time to react and quickly added, "Am I your overly eager intern? Or perhaps a loyal assistant?"

"Neither," was his simple reply before he heard a sweet tingling chuckle.

"My hair's in the tightest bun imaginable..." Kaiba realized she was starting the role-play and quickly moved his computer to the side. Nothing needed to occupy his lap but potentially his hand, _if_ this girl could get him there. "My white blouse can barely contain my bosom and my skirt is too short and too tight for the work place."

"And...?" So far he really did not understand the appeal but the English and accent was keeping him rooted in nosiness.

"And I'm here for our meeting Chairman."

Now this Dahlia really was losing him. "What business are we discussing?"

"Your marketing strategies are so outdated they make 'Industrial Illusions' a foster home for _adoption process_."

" _Oh_ _shit_..." His breath left him in a whoosh as he fumbled to get to the lube and tissues, knocking some items to the floor. This interestingly toned woman had just insulted him on a corporate level using business jargon. Was it lame to say he was hard as a rock in his pants? "So what makes you think you're even partially on my level to give my company such critiques?"

"Because I kept you from going in the red last quarter..."

"Oh really?" He slouched over the bed straining to reach the lube he dropped. "What could you have possibly done?"

"Appealing to the hip crowd with ironic comedy and late night airings of our commercial not only interesting 5% of the undecided but raising sales by 3%; this wasn't even originally planned, we took a stab in the dark."

He finally got the lube and returned to a comfortable position on the bed. "And from that stab there were causalities."

"We told you your 'Baby Boomers' would be on the receiving end of the blade, Mr. Chairman." She sounded sure of herself and an underlining tease, "But you wanted a young, hip, _baked cake._ "

He quietly hissed as he teased himself through his briefs, "I bet you know all about cake, huh?" His four fingers rubbed gently up and down his flesh.

"What kind of cake do you like?"

"What kind of cake do you have?"

She chuckled, "How's caramel?"

 _Oh_ _shit_. Kaiba's mind immediately coated this invisible person in hazel nut sweet skin with those plump lips from before. "Mmm...I'm a fan." He bit his bottom lip when she gasped quietly, almost shyly.

"You're a fan of rich, sweet, _sticky_ caramel?"

She sounded like she was genuinely inquiring him and he bit his lip to stifle a groan. "I am...what do you like?"

"Powerful smart men..."

"I'm just your type then, huh?"

In a breathless moan she almost whispered. "Overpower me."

" _Shit_ ," he rasped, "I bet you always stare at my crotch in meetings." Kaiba was over the buildup; his horniness was in a good place and it was time to enjoy it. Gently he worked his hand up and down his now full on, hard on.

"How can I not? You're so _big_ , Chairman."

"How big?"

"I gag every time we're alone..."

His hand gave his hard member a teasing squeeze, "Fuck...you love sucking me off, don't you?"

Breathily she responded, "You know I do."

"I bet you're licking your lips now, just imagining how good it tastes." The brunet worked his boxers down just enough so his erection sprang free. After a dollop of lube was squeeze into his hand, he tugged with just enough pressure and a white pearl dribbled down his length.

"I...am..." She let loose a whisper of a moan, "I want you to meet me in the mailroom, Chairman."

He slowly began jacking off, drooling with how good it felt to the sound of this phone line vixen. "Why the mailroom? It's surrounded in windows."

"I want them to see who really works for you…"

" _Fuck_ Dahlia, you're so dirty," he genuinely moaned into the phone. "You want them to see my cock down that throat, don't you?"

Her breathing picked up and it was so much better than any porno moan. "Yes," the whine started before it broke off as if she was gathering herself, "I want it in my mouth Chairman."

"You don't deserve it just yet." His grip was tighter than before and his toes curled at a particularly perfect tug of foreskin. "Why don't you take my cock out of my pants?"

"Mmm, I'm going to nuzzle you first…mouth it through your slacks..."

" _Shit_ …"

"Slowly unzip them and allow you to paint my face in your pre-excitement."

" _Oh_ _fuck_ …"

"Can I lick the tip Chairman?"

"Don't tease…just suck it…fuck…" He closed his eyes and instantly regretted it. The view of him standing in a familiar mailroom, where any worker could find him, was painted perfectly behind his lids. The fear of someone finding him in such a compromising position paled in comparison to the excitement of the woman at his feet not sucking him off. Cinnamon skin, soft curves and full lips was all he could make out. A dainty hand came up and gripped him gentle before a kitten lap to his slit coincided with his thumb tip grazing the leaking end.

"You're so hot and hard in my mouth..." She purred.

"So good, so fucking good…"

"Are you...are you touching yourself?"

"Shit—yes I am."

"Put it in my mouth Chairman."

"Oh _fuuuck_ ," was Kaiba's raspy response. The woman bit off a moan and made the same request. "I'm going to- _fuck_ -I'm going to come." His strong palm gripped himself tighter and soon he was all wrist, seeking out that explosion in his pelvic region.

"Come in my mouth—watch me swallow it down."

A raspy choked grunt left his throat and his whole body locked up. He felt sticky lava coat his fingers as they still worked him thoroughly to completion. He bit his lip hard at that perfect electricity shooting over and over through him. His hand soon slowed and he flopped face down into the bed, breathing hard while fumbling for the tissues.

"…Chairman?" She almost sounded concerned.

"I'm still here," was the throaty whisper. He'd located the tissues and was now cleaning himself up. "That…fuck…"

Dahlia gave an almost shy chuckle, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself Chairman."

"I admit, I thought this was all bullshit but you…well, I'm not going to stroke your ego."

"I simply stroke you?"

"I already came, you can stop you know." This time she gave a genuine giggle and he paused in his clean up just to listen to it. "Do you laugh at all your customers after they come?"

"Only the ones I like…?"

Her statement almost came off as sincere, _almost_. "Interesting." After he'd cleaned himself up and applauded himself for not soiling his expensive undergarments, he found he was satisfied and still on the phone with Dahlia. After a one night stand he'd usually tell the girl bye and politely leave her home—they were not allowed in _his_ apartment. But this time, it wasn't a physical being but a phone conversation. He felt awkward, not sure how to wrap things up. "So…"

"If you ever want to talk again, you have my number?"

He should have known; of course Dahlia would have something to say after everything. Naturally she had a response for first timers and reoccurring customers after the deed was done. However he didn't know why, but he felt like Dahlia didn't ask just anyone to call her back. Why did he feel special? Was he still drunk? Did sober Kaiba actually show up or had he dreamt him up in his drunken haze?

"Chairman?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." Yeah, he was still drunk. Even then it was so hard to keep his eyes open. He'd drank whiskey all night and then masturbated the best he had in months. He needed to hang up before he passed out. "Do I ask you by name?" He rubbed his face comfortably into his pillow, already closing his eyes.

"Yes, I anticipate you Chairman…" The phone went dead.

Kaiba barely clicked the end button before he fell asleep. He dreamt of cinnamon skin, soft curves and full lips.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ:**

'Ello Fanfiction World! It is I, ze Token, back writing for my number one Yu-Gi-Oh ship! We all need Trustshipping in our lives and I'm happy to contribute more to this awesome couple. So here we have my romantic comedy. Don't take this thing too seriously…really, don't. Hahaha. I'm writing it to continue to practice my writing, give you awesome readers something awesome to read and just for the sake of good ol' awesome Trustshipping.

There will be a new approach to the characters but I will continue to work hard to keep them in character! If you have any issues with them at some point, please bring it to my attention.

And no I have not forgotten about ' _Metempiricism_.' I'm working on the last chapter so please be patient with me!

(Shameless plug time) Also, if you are looking for a change of pace…why not check out the repost of my Avisshipping fic, ' _The_ _Commorancy of Calamity's_ _Consanguinity_.' I mean…if you wanna…

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!

Well I'm Out.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 2

Leave A Message at the Tone

* * *

Kaiba engaged a blinker on his navy blue Aston Martin DB9. Once the roadway was clear, he made his turn onto a fanciful thoroughfare. It was canopied in vibrant green foliage where the sun tried its hardest to break through, only creating wonder and beauty in glimmers of light. Soon the wood gently thinned out and a large centered fountain of stunning stone and ivy (working as a luxurious divider of the now visible two way residential drive) had gold lettering inscribed in its rock in English as well as Japanese, reading: 'Landaire 村' or 'Landaire Village.'

It was Sunday so the 'Landaire Village' groundskeepers were hard at work keeping up the impressive front entrance. They were pruning the small Japanese maples along plush brown mounds, freshly laden with fertilizer. The weeds invading the gorgeous beds of colorful flowers, did not stand a chance against the gardening gloved covered hands pulling and spraying in tandem. Silky green blades of grass were being meticulously mowed down to a particular inch while the bulk of the cut green was being swept into bags, and the smaller pieces blown away by loud machinery.

A few men that were standing around talking — sunhats on their heads and work gloves on their hands — were eyeing a tree and one had a chainsaw in hand. The moment the expensive vehicle caught their attention, they faced the brunet with small smiles and waving hands. Kaiba politely ducked his head in acknowledgment before raising his spread hand in a frozen wave. He was often greeted by the staff of the neighborhood since he frequented the area; especially on the weekends. He turned his attention back to the large fancy script 'L' and 'V' of the gold front gate. Glancing over at the freshly pressure-washed white security booth, he felt his face pinch around the nose.

"Kill. _Me_." In being a frequent guest anywhere, Kaiba had a knack for making unwanted acquaintances. One of them was currently on the black landline phone of the security booth until he spotted the car and quickly hung up; a large grin spreading across his face.

The most eager gatekeeper in the history of gatekeepers was _this_ kid. Every time Kaiba came he forgot just how dramatic he could be. He made himself forget how he'd slide that bulletproof window back, huge grin on his face; how he'd them proceed to wave his arms around like a seizing man trying to land a plane. And once he got his luxury vehicle's driver side window parallel with the booth, he extend both palms out and say: _'Whoooaaaa there cowboy! Gotta keep those horses from buckin'!'_

But most importantly, he washed the image of his 'shark fin' hairstyle from his mind. How much gel did one have to buy and use to convince themselves to do that? And who the _hell_ would convince themselves to do that? It was because of memory lapse, he _always_ arrived with his already less than content mood, _thoroughly_ killed. The guy worked weekends only—Kaiba really needed to keep a tab of this for future reference.

The kid already had a hard-on for Yami as it was and it didn't help Yami fed that beast by often conversing with him—dropping Kaiba's name in the mix. It was because of this the gatekeeper always felt like he could casually start up a conversation, as if he was an old friend of his just passing through. It was a nuisance on a normal day, better yet when you have a banging hang— _headache_. _Just_ a headache. It also didn't help he could not remember his name. For some reason 'Triscuit' came to mind but he assumed he was just hungry.

Taking a deep breath, he watched the boy wave his arms and plaster that silly smile on his face as he brought the luxury vehicle to a stop. He rolled his window down, "Here for lo—"

"Whoooaaaa there cowboy! Gotta keep those horses from buckin'! And you're here for lot 72—am-I-riiight?" The late-teen-early-twenty-something-year-old smiled widely at the brunet, hazel eyes sparkling. "It's Sunday brunch already? _Ahh_ , I bet she's going to make something amazing."

Kaiba nodded, trying to hide the fact that he wanted to be struck down right in that moment. Instead he ground his teeth into one another and gave him a constipated smile, "One can hope—the gate?"

The boy seemed unmoved and instead rested his arms on the ledge of the window. "Tell me," leaning in as if they were sharing secrets, "and be straight up with me man: have you…or have you not…had her _crepes_?"

The constipated smile moved to explosive diarrhea, "…I _have_."

Naturally the kid didn't notice. Grinning and wiggling his eyebrows, he slapped his hands loudly against the front of the booth in excited succession with his words: "They. Are. The. Best. In. The. Whole. Wide. _Universe_!" Kaiba flinched at each bang that sounded more like a sonic boom to his sensitive brain. He firmly bit his tongue; not sure of what that beast would roar out if not tamed in pain. "I love her crepes more than _life_ itself."

' _If you value any part of your life, open the gate_ ,' Kaiba so badly wanted to hiss but instead he nodded opting for silence. This seemed to work because now the kid was causally leaning back in his booth, swiping his ID badge and accessing the complicated (only to those who didn't speak computer) mainframe security system that alerted tenants of a visitor as well as security.

"Well I'd hate to keep you from your family," the boy said a bit distracted as he typed into the keyboard and soon the gate was rolling back. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend—oh! If you ever want to drop off the scraps," he winked, "I'll be here Mr. Kaiba."

"I'll keep that in mind…" A quick glance to the name tag, "Christian."

"It's actually Tris—"

With a press of his foot, Kaiba rolled through the still opening gate a bit faster than lawful but it was needed. He whirred his window back up, adjusting the sunglasses sitting on his nose as he retrieved his to-go cup containing cooling espresso. He sipped as he continued to regret upholding this never ending commitment to Sunday brunch at Yami's house. He didn't feel like getting attacked by a horde of small demons as he nursed himself back to health. He was sure Yami would not let him forget his poor disposition. The man always had a knack for grating on him when he was in the worse mood or state of health.

Speaking of aftereffects, when he woke up, he'd been hazy on the night's events. It felt sticky in his briefs and he'd slept so hard—orgasm inducing sleep. A type of sleep he realized he'd lost contact with. It was so deep and refreshing, he almost believed he was going to wake up to his shower running, and some random woman apologizing for using his shampoo. But she wouldn't be _too_ random. She'd have skin like creamed coffee and full lips. He was glad and a tad disappointed to find that wasn't the case. Instead he'd woken up to an empty bed and a not so empty trash bin. How many tissues did he use in his drunken haze? He guessed the real question was how hard did he actually come? And considering how long it'd been since he last relieved himself, he assumed all of those tissues were justified.

He'd been a bit embarrassed how his call log gave him the reason behind the midnight antics. This morning as he sat in bed, staring down at his phone, Kaiba had to accept something: he'd called a phone sex line. Not only had he called, he jerked off and busted so hard he got a weird tingling in his toes during the recap. While he organized certain pain meds on his nightstand to help with his pounding head and lurching stomach, he thought over that accented voice that almost seemed like a distant dream now.

What was the operator's name? Why did it remind him of murder? He took another sip of his expensive coffee and pushed it from his brain. As far as he was concerned, it didn't matter. That was a onetime thing and he could scratch that off his Bucket List. The day Seto Kaiba started regularly paying for sexual gratification was the day he'd reached rock bottom and he was happy to say he was far from that.

A Rolls Royce suddenly rolling through a stop sign, causing him to almost have to come to a complete stop, as he honked and gave the dude the finger, (getting a honk and finger back) reminded him of how much he hated Yami's neighborhood. Don't get him wrong, Kaiba was all about the finer things in life and being a snob when it was convenient. But the expensive and high-status community, voted the number one luxury suburb in Domino City, home to the city's wealthy and rich alike, did nothing for him.

Before Yami became a family man, he lived in the city a few blocks from Kaiba. The man would go on and on about how he wanted a house and a quiet existence from the hustle and bustle of Domino City, but he didn't take him for the 'number one voted luxury suburb' type. Kaiba assumed the wife hadn't hinted too subtly about the large plots of land holding marble floored entry ways and granite counter tops in the kitchens. She may have been a down to earth girl but she did come from a level of status and was expected to keep that standard.

And standards were high in 'Landaire Village.' Kaiba could honestly say there was never a time the grounds were not kept, the houses didn't look perfect and the security didn't track any and every move of foul play. He was reminded of this once he came to the second gate of the day. Some plots were gated (for an extra fee) while others were not. Yami tended to be a bit paranoid (Kaiba would never admit out loud that it was a family trait). So he typed the proper code into the metal box before tapping the pound sign.

A loud beep followed by the clicking of the gate opening happened as he rolled his window back up. He followed the long driveway through large bushes of deep green leafage, while bright white, pink, orange and red flowers blossomed their faces towards arriving guests, creating a sweet bouquet. The half mile driveway emptied to an almost storybook castle like home. It was built from beige stone with deep green ivy climbing up and around the windows. The dark roofing and varied slopes and cone shaped covers gave it a castle feel, but the architecture gave it a cozy look from the outside. A tall wall of thick green bushes protruded out from each side of the building, neatly hiding the backyard and its activities. A three car garage of the same beige stone and dark sloping roof sat off to the side, one of the doors opened.

Yami's crème colored Bentley Continental GT was parked there showing he must have run out on his wife's request. It guaranteed the annoying man was home. Spotting a flashy red and black colored Porsche Panamera in the looping driveway, he was glad he had reinforcements.

Kaiba chugged the rest of his coffee and gently got out of the car, careful not to slam the door. He took a few more Tylenol just to be safe and went to the double dark brown front entry and walked in, never needing to knock.

Immediately three animals — a white teacup Pomeranian, a chocolate Labrador and a black Bombay cat — went to investigate the disturbance. While he never minded _Eswid_ , Yami's beloved cat so cleverly named 'black' in Arabic, or even his wife's Pomeranian also ingeniously named its color in Arabic, _AbyaD_ , he didn't care for the family Labrador the kids named, yes, _Bonnay_. And yes, that did mean brown in Arabic.

With that said, he felt like _Bonnay_ had identity issues and was constantly looking for a friend. He was assaulted with licking and happy leaps, dog nails scratching at his pants. He fulfilled the dog's wishes and scratched him kindly behind the ears while _AbyaD_ adorably looked on, pleased her friend was getting the attention he deserved. _Eswid_ was at a high vantage point on top of the decorative hutch in the entry way, rocking his tail back and forth as he watched the exchange with his one green and one blue eye. As expected, _Bonnay_ became greedy with the attention and was getting more forceful with demanding affection. _AbyaD_ joined in, feeling like it was high time for her pet.

"Get back mutts," he hissed as he swatted the dogs away, them finding it a game and barking happily.

"Is that you Seto?"

The sweet voice carried from down the hall and here came Mrs. Morcos in all her glory. Her dark chocolate hair was pulled back in a high ponytail; her eyes were lined just right and her mascara opened her bright deep green eyes even wider if possible. She was dressed in a simple long halter floral print summer dress. Despite a baby on her hip and one standing at her side, she didn't look any older than when Yami first married her.

"Look who's here?" She cooed to the chubby babe clinging to her dress. The baby boy smiled in response to his mother's consideration while the little girl at her side was already trying to climb her uncle.

"Hey Mana," Kaiba returned as he reached down and grabbed, wait, which one was this? He looked at his neph— _niece_ , definitely a niece. Her big green eyes and dark brown hair didn't help in her name however. But the silent little girl was calm and Kaiba was okay with picking her up if she wasn't one of the wilder ones. "How are you?" He always made it a point to be as cordial as possible with her. Yami was afraid of very few things but his wife was definitely one. He had to have her as an ally.

"I'm doing okay!" She smiled brightly. "Looks like someone missed you."

The child Kaiba was holding suddenly hugged him — Mana ' _awwing_ ' in bliss while Kaiba tried not to look _too_ awkward — before motioning to be put down. He gladly did so and watched her pick up the small Pomeranian and run from the room, _Bonnay_ in hot pursuit. _Eswid_ was now nowhere to be found and he envied the cat coming and going as he pleased.

"Is the food ready?"

She began walking the way she came, casting a smile over her shoulder as he followed, "We're almost done, I hope you came hungry!"

The massive kitchen of stainless steel, granite counter-tops, suspended pots and open floor plan into the living room smelled of nothing but delicious potential. As usual, Mana's signature food spread was littering the large kitchen island. He was always reminded of how she was once a sous chef of a high-end restaurant in Tokyo, before she decided to become a full time mom. It always showed in her creations and he had a feeling Yami set this brunch business up just so she could scratch that ' _I need to cook for almost strangers_ ' itch once a week.

Said husband was sitting at the island with two toddlers in his lap watching five kids run around the large living room. Yami's eyes snapped in their direction when the chubby baby Mana was carrying made a strangled noise as if announcing their arrival. Immediately his garnet eyes lit up, "My beloved has returned as radiant as she left."

Mana smiled attempting not to look so bashful, but a blush dusting her cheeks betrayed her as she casually passed the baby off to Kaiba and returned to the stove. "Why don't you tell the kids to wash up?" She chuckled at her almost-brother-in-law holding her youngest awkwardly.

Yami turned his head back to the kids that Kaiba realized were all gathered around something, attacking it savagely. He realized it was a person. "Enough fun my brood, go wash your hands for brunch!" There were cheers and yelps as they scurried off down the halls, the older ones taking the toddlers from Yami to help them. Yami slowly stood up and walked into the living room offering a sympathizing gaze to the person balled up on the floor. "Are you two okay?"

Two? Kaiba immediately let loose a small grunt of approval that had the baby he forgot he was holding to stare at him curiously. "Is he alive?" He snidely remarked as he made his way past the island, moving the babe comfortably to his hip, to view the bundles of human flesh the couch was currently blocking.

A mop of black hair shot up and gray-blue eyes narrowed at the brunet. "Hello Seto, how _kind_ of you to _care_ about my well-being." He stood up, dusting off his old school Galaga shirt. "I just got this…" He grumbled at its wrinkled quality.

"Well Mokuba, as your older brother, it is my duty to make sure you're safe." Shifting his eyes from Mokuba, he found the other person lurking was Yami's eldest child, Yugi. The boy was an almost carbon copy of Yami in looks with Mana's personality. Even now he was looking concerned at his counterpart.

"Are you okay uncle Mokuba?" Yugi asked as he buried his hands in his haphazard hair, moving through it thinking he was making things better.

"I'm fine Yugi." Mokuba patted the kid on the head for emphasis and Yugi smiled in response.

"I was worried they'd hurt you; they really like to play rough. Mama said it's because they're like _Baba_." He giggled as Yami gave him a fake scowl.

"Is that so?" He jumped at him, Yugi shrieking happily as his dad pulled him into a tickle-hug fest. Suddenly he stopped, still holding the boy close, "Do you stand by your words, _S'ayirun_ _wahidun_?"

" _Uuuhhhhh_ ," Yugi giggled more than contemplated as his knobby knees knocked together, testing the hold his father had on him, " _Yeeeeeeees_?" Immediately Yami resumed his attack until Yugi went limp in his arms, round face turning pink from laughing so hard.

Yami soon stopped, kissing his forehead. "Go wash your hands and check on your siblings." Yami gave him a gentle shove and Yugi was off through an archway, following the sound of loud voices and running water down a corridor.

"He's getting so big," Mokuba remarked, fixing his shorts so they fit properly. "How old is he now?"

"8," Yami extended his arms and had the baby Kaiba forgot he was holding enthusiastically reach for his father. Yami took him and kissed him soundly. "He will soon be 9." A sad coo came from the kitchen and the men found Mana frowning as she dusted her crepes in powdered sugar. "Mana doesn't want him to become a man." He smiled endearingly at his wife, "Isn't that right Mrs. Morcos?"

"No I don't," she returned wiping her hands on a nearby towel before beginning the process of making all of the kids' plates. "He should stay my little Yugi forever."

Yami rolled his eyes, huffing halfheartedly before going back into the kitchen and putting the baby in his high chair. "It has to happen sometime." He sprinkled finger foods across the tray to occupy the babe before helping Mana. "Besides, the sooner we have one out, the sooner we are to being alone again." He leaned in, playfully biting into her neck where she laughed happily, shoving him away.

Kaiba swallowed the vomit in his throat that he knew wasn't due to the hangover. "Not if you keep having children," he mumbled. Mokuba heard him and snickered, shoving him lightly. "Speaking of kids, where's the girlfriend Mokuba?"

"Sick." Mokuba shrugged, "She got some weird bug going around the lab." Kaiba found it odd his brother's blonde genius of a beau didn't have some cure for her symptoms. "But she sends her regards."

"Mm."

"What about you?"

Kaiba stopped toeing a toy on the floor, trying to understand its function, to instead give Mokuba familial side-eye. "What about me Mokuba?" He knew where this was headed.

"Are you still not dating Kaiba?"

Great, now Mana's supersonic ears got the whole room involved. "I haven't had time."

"Time?" Mana seemed confused by this notion. "There's always time to fall in love." She winked at Yami who returned it.

"Gross," he began before clearing his throat, "I just don't have time to meet people."

"You meet them every day; they're kind of all-around you silly." Mana chuckled as she finished the last plates and started setting them at designated custom made 'kiddie tables.' "Are you not putting yourself out there?"

"You mean, being _unapproachable_?" Yami quipped, following suit with setting out food.

Kaiba rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Listen, I just don't have time, okay? Can we leave it at that?"

"But you've had time to go drinking with Yami and the guys," Mokuba sort of huffed, walking back into the kitchen to watch the happily snacking baby. "I'm not bitter I wasn't invited _at_ _all_."

"Of course not." Kaiba rolled his eyes and returned to the kitchen as well.

Yami's eyes lit up and he smirked towards his cousin, "How _are_ you feeling?"

"Shut up."

"Bad word, bad word, bad word!" A chorus if children were suddenly chiding. The brood had returned just to catch uncle Kaiba using 'potty mouth.'

"You guys should teach him a lesson for such a bad word," Yami told his children while Kaiba was already mapping out escape routes. Sadly he didn't get far before he was tackled by a fleet of children, Yugi looking on in sympathy. At least he had one ally. However he didn't mind this attack if it postponed the dating talk for at least a little while.

 **...Later...**

In usual Sunday brunch tradition, after the kids had gotten their fill, they were set loose on the sprawling backyard and playground Yami had installed. One by one the younger ones would come whining, crying or a combination of both over to their dad. Yami would ask if they were tired and regardless of their response, they were sent inside where Mana would further evaluate if a nap was needed. The final toddler had just been put down so the men were feeling a little more lax.

Yami, Kaiba and Mokuba were all sprawled out on high price patio furniture, comfortable in the spring weather, watching the older children challenge each other on the swings, push dollies in carriages in the grass and a few sibling fights to break out before getting resolved. Currently Yugi was resolving a fight between the sisters who couldn't agree on where to take their babies. Who knew to the store or grandma's house would cause such a debacle?

"Yugi's so pure of heart it's almost scary," Yami mused as he narrowed his eyes, a can of beer sitting in his hand with designer shades resting on his nose. "The world will not be kind to him but he will change it somehow."

Mokuba had his arms behind his head, one leg bent and the other straight shaking back and forth at the ankle, "Mana deserved at least one like her." He reached in the cooler in front of them and grabbed a cold one. "The rest are all psychos like you."

Kaiba snickered behind his Pepsi earning an unseen glare from Yami. "Mokuba is right. They're insane expect for Yugi—he's my favorite."

"You even _have_ a favorite?" Mokuba teased. "I thought you hated kids."

"And women," Yami added offhandedly.

"Both of you," Kaiba casually looked around (since earlier they found two kids hiding behind their expensive lounge chairs) before completing his thought, "can go fuck yourselves."

Mokuba giggled happily before Yami piped up with, "That's what my wife is for."

"Don't start," Kaiba grouched as he slid his sunglasses over his face, the sun returning from behind a cloud. "It's disgusting."

"You and Mana are like bunnies." Mokuba pulled his long hair into a bun, the heat getting to him a little. "Are you two done yet? Didn't she just have Kaden?"

"You know their names?"

Yami ignored Kaiba and answered, "We'll be done when she feels satisfied. She's an only child so it's really important to her that we have a large family."

"You're an only child too," Kaiba added.

"And I was content with _just_ Yugi." Kaiba smirked while Mokuba chuckled in response as Yami took a swig from his cold can. "I love all of my princes and princesses but some days I wish the home was silent." Yami let out a long thoughtful sigh, "How is it Kaiba?"

"How's what?"

"A silent home?"

Kaiba lost the battle at keeping a growl filled with the utmost disdain for Yami, buried deep within his chest. " _Fuck_. _You_."

Yami's laugh was full of legitimately joy as he ran a hand through his hair. "I assumed you were the best person to ask such things."

"What about you anyway Seto?" Mokuba lazily rolled over, chin on his folded forearms. "Looking for any eligible ladies?"

Kaiba shrugged hating that the conversation was back on his lack of dating. "Maybe I'm taking one from Bakura and enjoying the bachelor life."

"Dear Allah not Bakura." Mana emerged from the house carrying the baby from before who seemed bushy tailed and wide eyed. "Yami, take Kaden for me." She set the plump babe on his lap and immediately he lit up, crimson eyes wide to match his smile. Mana stood there looking at the children, right hand working as a visor for her eyes. "No one should want Bakura's life. It's…not _right_." She cringed before escaping back inside.

"My beautiful wife does not lie," Yami sounded a bit distracted as he watched Mana walk back inside the home. "I never get tired of watching her leave…"

"You guys have been married for damn near ten years and you still act like newlyweds." Kaiba rolled his eyes as he finished off his Pepsi. "I don't get it."

"And you wouldn't considering you have never tasted the kiss from a woman that you are madly in love with and who feels just as insanely passionate about you." Yami let out a weighted sigh as he looked down at Kaden, who was already staring at him, "A woman who willingly gives me more beautiful children than I deserve; a woman so loyal unto me." He ran a gentle hand through his babe's soft hair and kissed his plump cheek; the little boy face planted in his father's chest.

"Remember how the family took bets of when you two would divorce?" Mokuba chuckled as he watched the baby, anxious to hold him.

Yami noticed this and passed the baby over Kaiba (who leaned back in almost disgust) to Mokuba. "Well we were young."

"You two were babies." Kaiba was one of the people who lost that bet and who also told Yami not to marry Mana.

The all grew up with Mana since her father, Mahado, was a close family friend—best friends with Aknamkanon, Yami's father. So when Mana's mother abandoned her small family shortly after giving birth, Thoeris, Yami's mother, was quick to assist with the rearing of the child. The older the two became, they closer they got. Mana always had tons of friends with her bubbly outgoing spirit, but when it came to Yami, there was a level of loyalty and protectiveness no one else received. While Yami, who often kept his problems to himself and would often be caught brooding, found a confidant and source of happiness from Mana. The parents simply viewed them as 'separated siblings' but this was far from the case.

When Yami had his 'identity crisis' — self-inflicted according to Kaiba — his second year of university and disappeared, the family immediately contacted Mahado. They were shocked to find he was also looking for Mana—getting a call from her university that she was missing. For three weeks Kaiba's phone would not stop ringing or vibrating: ' _Have you seen your cousin?_ ' ' _Did Atem call or perhaps Mana sent a text?_ ' ' _Are you sure you don't know where they are?_ ' ' _If you're lying I'm telling your mother_.' All the brunet could do was guarantee an all-inclusive snitching if he ever found out, because he honestly had no idea what was going on and did not care—he had class.

After those long three weeks Yami and Mana reappeared with jewelry no one had ever seen and got a tongue lashing from three very-pissed-but-relieved-however-once more-pissed adults. Luckily Yami had just proposed to Mana, but Mahado, Aknamkanon and Thoeris made three things very clear: 1) They would return to school and finish—no more shenanigans or meet ups. 2) Their engagement time would be spent meeting other people so they knew this is what they wanted. 3) There _would_ be a wedding— _no_ eloping.

So while the couple finished their bachelors, they dated around (which mainly consisted of partying) and after graduation, Yami at 23, and Mana at 22, were wed. After almost ten years of marriage, they earned the approval and respect by showing how strong they were as a unit. Even Kaiba couldn't deny (but would not admit) they were meant for each other. The parents slowly came around it this. Naturally the grandchildren didn't hurt in swaying Mahado, Aknamkanon, and Thoeris' opinions further.

"We may have been young but we knew we were destined." Yami smiled fondly at his daughters rocking their babies in the grass. "Destiny cannot be stopped by anyone."

Mokuba nodded, thoroughly impressed by Kaden's spit bubbles and chubby arms, "I always knew you two were going to get together. Remember when she grew boobs and you nearly lost it that one summer in Cairo?"

Yami chuckled fondly at the memory, "That same summer her perky, lush bottom blossomed beneath those breath taking lower back dimples."

"Come on dude!" Mokuba complained causing Kaden to giggle at his discomfort.

Kaiba dropped the can of soda he was thinking of getting and grabbed a ginger-ale instead. With the way the conversation was going, he was sure he was going to puke. "How about you spend one day _not_ trying to make me throw up."

"That seems impossible today, wouldn't you say?" Yami's smug smile made Kaiba's skin prickle with crossness. "But before we were distracted by the beauty and perfection that is my wife and matrimony, let's get back to the topic at hand: Kaiba, when are you going to settle down?"

"Won't you be like, 50 this year?" Mokuba flinched when Kaiba flicked his ear.

"I'll be 30—stop rushing me to the grave. Yami already has a foot in."

"Being 31 doesn't mean you're in the grave," he chuckled, "especially not when you look this good." His body stretched out on the chair and the pose looked like an ode to Marilyn Monroe.

"Whatever," Mokuba rolled his eyes as Kaden played with his hand. "Regardless, you should really think about things Seto. It might be time for you to at least find someone."

"Find someone worth your time," Yami quickly added in since that was usually Kaiba's complaint in the past.

"Mm," was the brunet's only response signifying he was done talking about it.

Mokuba allowed Kaden to steal his heart while Yami got to his feet, realizing he needed to scold his children up close and personal. Kaiba leaned back into a more comfortable position as he sipped his ginger-ale. Mokuba was happily praising Kaden who was showing off how well he could clap, while it sounded like Yami was caught up in playground politics with his clan.

He couldn't help but think over their words as he was left to his thoughts. When would he settle down? Was he ready to? It didn't help he had to dip and dodge the full blown conversation with the two worse people to have a dating conversation with.

Sighing, he re-crossed his legs. A weird kind of heavy feeling crept from his hips, gradually building up to his chest. There it placed its full weight and he felt himself drifting from the current location. Yami's laughter as his boys tackled him faded out to static; Kaden's squeals of delight over Mokuba's peek-a-boo attention were echoing memories. He was falling into himself and he didn't like it. Easily he pushed all of this from his mind and shrugged. _It'll_ _happen_ _when_ _it_ _happens_. Until then, he'd stick with his tight schedules, freedom to come and go as he pleased, and perhaps a certain phone number that just wouldn't leave his mind.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ:**

Here is the update! I just want to thank you guys already! Did not think my return to the world of Trust-love was going to be so warmly welcomed. I try to always be here for you guys—thank you for the support.

EEP! As you can tell, I put quite a bit of background in this chapter so sorry if you don't like that. Also, I'm doing my own thing regarding surnames, parents' names, relatives, etc. Do not expect the traditional canon relations in this wonderful AU of mine. It's half true, half false and all the Egyptian names I can find.

Hope everyone enjoyed Labor Day! 'Murica! Hahahaha. AND PLEASE CHECK OUT MY POLL AT THE TOP OF MY PROFILE! Thank you to everyone who has voted thus far.

Arabic Words:

Eswid – Black

AbyaD – White

Bonnay – Brown

Baba – Daddy

S'ayirun wahidun – Little one

 **Posted Especially For:**

Becks – Thank you so much! I'm really finding it difficult to toe the line between sexy and funny, so I feel accomplished by your comments. Keep letting me know!

Mimiholly – I do love one measly review and for your measly review, here is my update. Thank you!

Guest – Impress and inspire? (Blush) I don't know about all that but I sure do thank you for it!

Ruby of Raven – OMG IT'S YOOOUUU! (Cyber high-five) I missed you too! Thank you so much for still caring about my fics, despite my kinda absence from Trustshipping.

Moon – I am Moon! I'm here and you're here and since you are here, thank you for the review! My feels for KaIsis will never leave, so I know your feels. Ha ha ha.

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 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!

Well I'm Out.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 3

Hang Up and Try Again

* * *

At 5:01am on the dot, a set of eyelids shot open and two sleep hazed blue eyes took in the vaulted ceilings of their bedroom. Reaching methodically to the right, the brunet retrieved his cellphone and unlocked the device. It immediately opened to a screen naming itself: 'Good Morning Mr. Kaiba.' A few taps on the self-made app and the flat came alive—a subtle click followed by a gentle whir of machinery. The shades of the large windows of the penthouse (minus the bedroom) let in the early morning light as they were rolled to the top. The Keurig began heating its water for the awaiting 'Blue Eyes White Dragon' mug while the master bathroom clicked its vanity lights on; clicking the shower on and heating the water to the required temperature.

Kaiba rolled over in his bed and gently kicked the sheets off, still to groggy to get aggressive with it. The sleep he managed to get hadn't been the best. He was plagued with endless conversations surrounding his relationship status; nightmares where spindly women clutched at his crotch with crooked fingers. The fact that suddenly his bed felt so empty was disheartening. He ran a hand through his hair as a small beep from his phone signaled he was past time to get up. He ignored it. His mind was still reeling about getting old, dying alone, and not getting sex in general. His priorities were all messed up and he wasn't sure how to rearrange things.

His app didn't care that he was at the beginnings of a crisis, it demanded punctuality. The drapes of the room slowly ascended, bathing the bedroom in champagne light. Kaiba would have appreciated the beauty if it wasn't for the fact that he was now going blind. Suddenly his bed was freezing; he yelped, jumping up for the warm shower. He was now thinking that maybe programming in the bed temperature change was a bit much.

He only took a few moments to enjoy the warm spray cascading down his shoulders before he kicked into gear. Like hell you were going to catch him taking one of those 'woe is me' showers. After what he'd like to view as a confident shower, he went over to his large closet; going through his personal collection of high priced athletic clothing. He settled on a pant and muscle shirt set, fastened his running shoes tightly and headed downstairs. He sipped his morning coffee while his phone shared with him the time break downs of when he left his bed to when he finally grabbed his coffee. Even on his lazy days he was still in target.

Ten minutes and two mugs of coffee later, he was standing outside his complex. Stretching in a familiar alley while he occasionally peaked at the people passing by before someone stopped. Seems he was the only one who could handle a lazy day and still make it places on time. Figures.

"Hey so—"

The brunet didn't even look at the late arrival. "You're late—chasing the mailman on the way here?" Kaiba ignored the indignant huff he received for the jab, and began his jog; his less time conscientious partner glaring next to him.

"You're really an asshole, do you know that?" Joey Wheeler kept pace with the snooty CEO; his exclusive Puma track-suit, beanie and running shoes brightly colored and offsetting to Kaiba's all black ensemble.

"And you're always late."

" _On_ time."

"On time is late Wheeler." The men two-stepped on the street corner as the crosswalk was occupied with vehicles.

"Yami warned me you'd be extra grumpy today, so I'll let it go." Kaiba shot his eyes over to the blond to find his simpering smile. "Problem Money-Bags?"

"…" Rather than give an appropriate response for the species Kaiba was, the brunet settled on the animal kingdom and gave loose a dangerous growl. He was sure that out of all people Joey would know exactly what he said.

But he seemed unmoved by the sound and shrugged, already jogging across the crosswalk. When Kaiba caught up, Joey lightly tapped his elbow into the paler arm. "Come on MB, tell Wheeler what brothers ya."

"Not a damn thing—what did Yami say?" Kaiba knew good and well his cousin was probably telling his business about being single and what was discussed at brunch just 24hrs ago.

"He said," Joey dodged a lady pushing a tandem stroller and came back beside him, "that ya lonely and trying to hide it."

"Idiot."

"Is it true?"

Joey sounded genuinely concerned and Kaiba wished they were 16 again; full of rage over home life and the usual dose of teenage angst that led them scraping in the courtyard at three in the afternoon. But no, now they were responsible adults and though Kaiba would never say it, Joey had somehow become his friend and he hated that. He hated that this buffoon was his friend and that this buffoon had _pity_ for him. It was enough to flip his stomach and push his legs harder. Naturally Joey kept pace thanks to a stint in the military and joining the fitness profession in general.

"Aye, MB." They were once more at a set of red lights that didn't permit them to utilize the crosswalk. "You know Yam' just worries about ya," he shrugged, "we all do to some degree."

"Mm. Thanks."

"I mean, they do _way_ more than I ever would."

Kaiba rolled his eyes, shoving the blond who lost his balance, bumping into a random suit he had to apologize to. The two continued the run, passing insults without any more dating talk. This was another reason Kaiba didn't mind having the blond around. After he'd established he didn't want to talk about something, Joey rarely pushed. And if he did, it ended in an argument and more silence. He wished Yami could take notes from his best-friend.

After their jog, they stopped at their usual brunch spot and sat in a booth with a large window showing the early morning commuters. Kaiba scrunched his face up at how Joey ate his breakfast burrito like it was still alive and threatening to run off his place. He supposed some things never changed.

"I'm surprised Mai hasn't left you yet with the way you eat."

Joey looked around before flipping him the bird. "Mai loves every part of me, so that'll be a little too hard for her to do."

"Which still makes no sense."

A 'bro-trip' to Florida during Joey's Army days had him crossing paths with a feisty Miami native. He can still see Mai Valentine's big blonde curls as she danced in that oh so short, oh so tight, white tube dress in that exclusive club. His fellow soldiers tried to convince Joey that she was _way_ out of his league. A woman that hot didn't have time for someone like Wheeler. But anyone who knew the kid knew he never gave up, even on the impossible. Two drinks later and a dance, Joey had Mai at least smiling at his crappy jokes.

He may not have been the big spender Mai was use to or even exotically good looking like the other men of the bustling city, but his sincerity was worth more than gold. Honesty with men was something Mai's life had always been lacking. So she relinquished her number the last day of his trip. As promised, Joey kept in touch with Mai and often sent her little tokens of his affection when he couldn't fly in.

When Joey got out of the Army, he moved to Miami for a few months to get closer to Mai. It wasn't until he was returning to Japan that he realized this was well past a fling. How Joey convinced the sassy journalist to come back to Japan with him — after only a year of dating — still baffled everyone, his family included. Now the blond duo had been shacking up for two years. Joey was now 28 and with Mai recently hitting 30, it was only a matter of time until marriage happened.

Kaiba blew air through his nose as he grabbed a napkin, "I still don't understand how a woman like her went for someone like… _you_."

Joey had that big goofy grin on his face, staring down fondly at his burrito as he covered it in sriracha sauce. "What can I say?" He shrugged, "I'm a very, very, _very_ lucky man."

"Beyond lucky…" Glancing up, Kaiba caught Joey's almost serious expression and quickly threw out another topic before he could offer more pity. "How's the business—gone under yet?"

"NO," Joey growled as he angrily took a bite of his food, chewing with his mouth open, "It's actually going great."

Joey never came from money. He was American born but Japan raised by his Navy affiliated father. His mother who resided in Brooklyn, New York saw it best if he stayed with his dad, she taking his little sister, after they decided to divorce many years ago. Between the two of them, college wasn't going to be funded. So he returned to America to join the Army. During his five years in active duty, the blond got a degree in nutrition and fitness, with a minor in business, and served two tours overseas.

Since Joey minored in business, he actually went back to school — with Mai's not so subtly hinting he needed to — so he could complete the major in full. Once he did, he opened his own gym that catered to fun workout activities rather than just lifting weights and running on a treadmill. Of course they had that, but there was also hot yoga, spin classes, boxing and other fun routines men and women easily fell into, making 'Wheeler Factory' a hit with the young crowds of Domino City.

"In fact, I'm going in today to lead an exclusive spinning class."

"How does that even work? Isn't mixing the words 'exercise' and 'exclusive' bad for business?"

"Not in this case," he shrugged as he wiped his mouth on a nearby napkin, "big spenders don't like being rubbernecked at the gym. So I hold private sessions if ya have the cash."

"Don't you sound greedy?" Kaiba smirked.

He rolled his eyes back, gawking at the ceiling in mock-anguish, "Dammit, you and Yam' are rubbing off on me."

The brunet smirked. "Cancelling the class?"

"Hell no. These side classes pay for my hot high maintenance girlfriend." He chuckled as Kaiba smiled at him in understanding. Poking the tightly wrapped pita with his unused fork, Joey cleared his throat. "So um, Mai has like, some hot friends and if ya want—"

"I'm not into," his scowl deepened considerably, " _Americans_."

Joey ignored the jab and pushed forward. "Well she has some hot Japanese—"

"NO."

Joey held his hands up in defense, "Okay, okay. Yam' told me to try so I had to keep my word."

"He's trying to get me on blind dates now?"

He shrugged, "As in…"

"Don't play dumb…though you're usually not." He ignored the glare, "Who else did he ask?"

"Who…what?" Joey saw this as a time to shove a bunch of food into his mouth.

Before Kaiba could insult him further his phone went off. He pulled the device out to check the text-message; it was from Bakura:

' _You and me. Hot. Fucking. Bitches. Tonight. You pick the place._ '

Kaiba shot Joey a glower that could peel paint and the blond comically curled up, trying to protect his body. "Hey man, take that up with Yam'! I told him to leave Bakura out of this." Joey then made his escape realizing his glass was only half-full, snatching it up to go to the fill up station.

The brunet directed his attention back to his phone and responded: ' _No_. _Never_.'

The response was quick: ' _Have fun dying alone shithead_.'

He _really_ hated Yami.

 **A Few Hours Later**

"Mr. Kaiba sir!"

Kaiba's eyes snapped up from his computer where he may or may not have been looking over a certain website. A website to a company that's haunted him since all this dating talk had reared its head. Nothing on the front page was outright incriminating but the content was. This is what led him to closing the window all together and jumping up from his chair in what he tried to make an angry motion. He regretted this outburst when he saw who was actually standing in his office. He would have preferred a bumbling intern apologizing for burning his bagel.

"This is my tower, what the hell do you want?" Kaiba sat back down in his chair, leaning back and glowering at the visitor.

Yami whistled a happy tune as he loosened his tie, looking around the impressive office. "I haven't been to your side in a while. I like what you've done with the lobby."

"Yeah," Kaiba grunted as he opened a spreadsheet back up trying to look like he was working hard.

Yami walked over to the window behind his cousin's desk and looked out over downtown Domino. "You know its lunch time. We could go to that gyro place on Third Street."

Kaiba growled low in his throat as he was reminded of his childhood. Yami was never one to cower to his threats or acknowledge his impolite responses to his presence. Instead he'd carry on like Kaiba wasn't plotting his disappearance. "I already ate."

"Your assistant says otherwise." He was still out of sight but Kaiba knew he was smirking.

"Stop flirting with everyone before Mana finds out."

"I never flirt," Yami haughtily chuckled, "I've been told I have the charm of a prince. Perhaps in another life I was?"

"Your arrogance is bigger than you."

"Now, now, I'm sure you've been wooed by my ways a few times."

He scoffed. "Never."

"Who was the best man at my wedding?" Kaiba clenched his teeth as Yami strode around to the other side of the deep wood desk, so Kaiba could clearly see the smirk this time around. Yami placed himself half on the desk, resting an elbow on the sitting thigh. "Now," he picked up a known paper weight and inspected it, "if we leave now we could beat the lunch rush."

"No."

"So I should order in?"

Kaiba rubbed his face, "No Yami. You should get back on the elevator and take your ass back to your office."

"Stressed my dearest _Ibn_ _'am_?" Yami gently placed the weight down and picked up a photo showcasing Kaiba's immediate family, Mokuba's girlfriend and her father included. "How are the prototypes coming?"

"I'm not going to discuss something you don't understand."

"Why don't we discuss something we both understand?" His smile was back as he placed the photo down. Kaiba raised a brow and jerked his head around, silently asking what he meant. "Why were you on that phone sex website?"

Kaiba's face was so unreadable even he wondered what his own mind was thinking. Standing from his chair, he grabbed his suit coat and picked up the phone. "I'm leaving for lunch." Placing the phone back down, he grabbed his needed items and excited the office. All the while ignoring a simpering Yami who couldn't seem to shake a good mood.

An hour later, the two businessmen were sitting on wooden picnic tabletops with greasy delicious Mediterranean gyros with Japanese flare. Yami reverently peeled more of the food wrapping paper from around his meal before taking another hearty bite. Even Kaiba seemed lost in how delicious it was; chewing seriously while staring at the warm pocket of food.

"So, do you want to tell me?" Yami's elbow gently prodded his hip due to the height difference.

"Tell you what?" Kaiba wiped his mouth and his hands with a free napkin before taking another bite. As much as he loved the place he hated how disgusting he got when eating it.

"Why you were on that website."

Kaiba rolled his eyes, "I have nothing to say."

"Sounds like you have _plenty_ to say," Yami chuckled as he finished off his food, throwing the paper and used napkins into a receptacle nearby.

Kaiba swallowed already feeling his ears getting red, "Shut the hell up."

"Come on Kaiba, we're family. You can tell me why you chose to peruse one of," he looked around the small park before leaning in and half whispering, "previous places of employment."

"Hm." Kaiba was oddly comforted by the recap that the only reason he knew about the phone line was because Yami (a person now questioning him about it) had worked there. He wasn't better than him. It's one thing to use sketchy services than to actually be a willing participant in them. "I was simply curious."

"Curious of what?" He cracked open a soda and took a swig.

"Does curiosity need an explanation?" He threw away his trash and went to the task of cleaning his hands and face from the travel pack of wet-wipes he always kept on his person.

Yami nursed the can of cool sugar against his thigh and cocked his head to the side. "Everyone says 'curiosity killed the cat' but we never openly admit as to wanting to know what exactly killed it." He took another gulp and let out a contended _ah_ , "Because they're afraid of the same fate."

"I agree—let's keep our lives," was the very sarcastic response as he cracked open his sparklingly water.

"Well I am always one for asking and saying things people aren't willing to."

"That's called being a nuisance, Yami."

"Then allow me to annoy you: why were you on that website?"

Kaiba let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead, his fingers smoothing across his eyebrows. "I just…"

Yami's brows knitted together and he leaned in, "You know you can tell me Seto."

"Well if you must know," Kaiba gave a big sigh, "I was just trying to understand why the hell anyone would want to have phone sex with you?" He smirked down at his drink at the strangled groan of rage Yami emitted from his lips.

"Fine, don't tell you me you brazen brat."

"Gladly you hot-headed Hobbit." Yami angrily threw the remainder of his trash away before stomping off down the street in the direction of the office. Kaiba chuckled happily not only over his verbal win but to Yami returning red-faced. "Forgot I drove?" The brunet snidely asked.

Yami mumbled curses in Arabic as he kicked at nothing. He took his place back on the picnic table and pulled his phone out, checking the many photos Mana sent him of his many kids. Kaiba was content, chewing his last bit of food in a patient cadence while Yami continued to fume over him having the last word. But as usual, the man was only occupied for so long.

" _At-least-I-have-the-warmth-of-a-woman-to-satisfy-my-needs_."

Kaiba halted in chewing the last piece of his gyro, the food spoiling on his tongue. He angrily balled up the paper, "Can Mana even _feel_ you after all of those kids?" He knew he was treading into territory that was beyond off-limits but Kaiba was fed up with Yami making little remarks regarding him being single. He also wouldn't admit that being caught on that website had embarrassed him more than needed. Couple that with the bullshit Yami shared with Joey and _freaking_ Bakura. Snapping out of his thoughts, blue eyes met angry red that was standing in front of him, his arm raised high.

"You…" Yami royally slapped the bottle of fancy water the brunet happened to be taking a sip from; sending the bottle sailing from its owner. It fell to the pavement where the nearby pigeons immediately began an inspection, "I should have slapped you, you _ungrateful_ little brat."

" _I'm_ ungrateful?" Kaiba was now on his feet, head tilted down to glower straight into the man's eyes. "You're the one spreading my business around to any and every one!"

"I am not—I have not!"

"You told Joey and Bakura!"

"They are not _any_ and _every one_! They are our friends and I'm sorry we're all collectively concerned about your dating situation."

"Well understand this Yami," Kaiba jabbed his index finger in the expensive lapel of his cousin, "You all may be concerned but," he leaned in close, "I don't give a flying fuck, okay?"

Shoving the shorter man, he angrily kicked his fallen bottle out of his way and made a beeline to his all black Audi A6 coupe, still prettily parked against the curb. Chirping the car open, he slammed the door closed once inside and angrily put his seatbelt on. Starting the engine, he sat there waiting.

Sometime later, a narrowed eyed Yami waited until a pause in traffic before walking around the car and getting in the passenger seat. He slowly put his seatbelt on and let out a held breath. Reaching forward, he fiddled with the radio while Kaiba waited for another break in traffic to cautiously pull the automobile out on the road. The drive back to the office was twenty minutes with the lunch time traffic and the two stayed silent, some 80s radio station playing the best New Wave.

Finally they were pulling into the B1 level parking garage exclusively for higher ups of their company. Once Kaiba had pulled into his marked parking spot right next to Yami's all white Mercedes-Benz C300, said owner of the vehicle was turning the radio off.

"Seto—"

"What?" Kaiba snapped.

Yami glared a hole through the dashboard, " _Listen_ …" He took a moment to gather himself, "I know how annoying it can be to be hassled over something in your life. If you'd like, I'll cease and desist…and you can happily die alone."

"It's what I want."

" _Excellent_."

" _Good_."

Turning to one another, they exchanged a look of fuming comprehension and both excited the car. Yami took the elevator to the far right while Kaiba went left.

 **That Evening**

Kaiba threw down his briefcase as soon as he got home; abandoning it on the living room couch. He really, really, _really_ hated Yami. Per the usual after they've had a tiff, the rest of the day was filled with passive aggressive memos indirectly pertaining to the content of the quarrel. Eighty percent of Yami's emails had been about group functions he was considering attending. Luncheons, weekend retreats, month long good will rapport builders—damn he _really_ hated Yami. The man just never knew when to quit. After the last memo had been about an upcoming couple's mixer his assistant sent on 'accident,' Kaiba made sure to 'accidentally' send him an article about a disgruntled family member killing his cousin and family in a horrible act of kidnapping, stabbing and arson. Communication between them ceased after that.

He walked over to his bar area, preparing to pour himself a stiff drink in celebration of surviving another Monday with Yami. But he was shocked to see a bottle was already out as well as two glasses. Looking around in a frenzy he shouted a strong F-bomb when a mop of white hair launched from behind the expensive wood and granite of his home bar.

"What the fuck Bakura?!" Kaiba reached across the counter and grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him painfully into the smooth edge of the table top. "You scared the shit out of me," he hissed between gritted teeth. He threw the man back, sitting down on one of the two barstools there. " _Asshole_ …"

Bakura Garrett-Fairchild only bared his large canine smile and produced a silver mixer, shaking it happily. "I just wanted to surprise my hardworking man." He fluttered his lashes before pouring the mixed beverage in each glass. "Drink up _dear_."

Kaiba rolled his eyes but picked up the glass, easily accepting the drink. "How did you get in here?" He may have preferred to be alone after Yami's nonsense, but Bakura was one of the best 'mixologists' he knew and he did need a good drink.

"I used my key," his grin didn't falter as he threw back his drink, slamming the empty glass down.

"You don't have a key," was Kaiba's deadpanned response.

"And when's the last time you got some tail?" Bakura's eyebrow raised when the brunet glowered over his drink. "Okay, get out of that hideous excuse of a suit and get sexy." He wiggled his eyebrows, "We're going out."

"Bakura…" Kaiba set his glass down and blinked, "It's a _Monday_ night."

The pout was almost believable, "Oh Kai-Kai, your lack of faith in me I _almost_ find disheartening."

Kaiba could not deny that Bakura probably did know exactly where to go on a Monday night for a wild party and beautiful women. As the owner of one of the largest party planner companies in the UK, thanks to 'Foul Play Entertainment,' Bakura was responsible for Kaiba, Yami and Joey's epic party days. From getting black out drunk and waking up on a beach; to meeting the girl of his dreams who threw up on his Gucci loafers (they didn't make it—the shoes nor the 7 hour relationship), Bakura has taken Kaiba to some of the greatest parties of his life. In recent years they had all slowed down with mature commitments being more important than getting wasted; well, Joey, Yami and Kaiba slowed down, Bakura had every intention of being an eternal bachelor.

"It doesn't matter what you have in mind, I'm not going."

"Have a tiff with the wife?" Bakura grinned as he poured himself another glass, already knowing how Kaiba was glaring at him. "What the _misses_ say now?"

"You obviously know," Kaiba snatched the silver mixer from him, pouring himself another drink. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

Bakura flipped the corners of his mouth down and nodded to an unheard conversation. "Very true mate, but as we both know, Yami is a little _twat_."

Kaiba nearly spit out his drink but was able to keep it together. Bakura may not have been the first person he'd call for well, anything outside of partying, but his love-hate relationship with his cousin brought much needed joy; especially since the Brit cussed like a sailor.

"If this is true, why are you here?" Bakura rarely did anything he didn't want to, better yet take suggestions from Yami.

He shrugged, finally coming from around the bar to sit beside the brunet. "I was in town and ready for some ace women to show this lad a good time." Kaiba raised a brow and snorted at Bakura's 'want-to-be-offended' look. "What?"

"Tea's on your back again?" Bakura snorted and grumbled something under his breath. Kaiba huffed out a "thought so" before taking a long swig of the brew.

Bakura may've wanted to be an eternal bachelor at the ripe age of 35, but that wasn't to say there wasn't a constant woman in his life. Tea Gardner, once a premiere ballerina for a world renowned troupe in Paris, was this woman. Bakura met her during one of his many business trips and somehow the brunette sucked him in with her long toned legs and a 'proper set of tits' (a direct quote from the man). Saying they were complete opposites was like saying water and oil didn't mix: it was obvious common knowledge and easy to prove. Bakura was a ruthless loner, who functioned off of manipulation and didn't have the best reputation in even his closest circles. However, Tea was the opposite: she was nurturing, considerate and took very good care of those she held dear.

It was the classic story of a 'good girl falling for a bad guy.' Her parents hated Bakura and rightly so; the first time he met them he came in after an all-nighter that included dark liquor and maybe cocaine. Tea stood by him and even though Bakura never admitted to Kaiba, or any of them for that matter, she had been his girlfriend. They were 'off-and-on' for years until Tea announced she was pregnant. Bakura wasn't about being a dad but knew it was Tea's decision on the matter. She kept the baby and Ryou — now 5 and the spitting image of Bakura — lived with Tea in London, where she danced for a less demanding company. Bakura saw Ryou way more than anyone expected him too and Kaiba knew why. The man may fear traditional commitment but dying alone, with no one to carry on his name and legacy, is even more frightening. Kaiba shared that sentiment.

"What did you do now to piss her off?"

"I was late to the little bastard's football game." Despite constantly referring to Ryou as a bastard — which come on, he was — Bakura always put some oddly playful spin on it. It was more of a pet name than a diss.

"I didn't know Ryou was into sports."

"The bastard's a wee bit shy—Tea's got him doing stupid shite to get on with other kids." Bakura rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink before placing it back on the counter. "Who the bloody hell is rushing off to watch a bunch of little turds kick across the lawn?"

Kaiba snorted, "Oh, I don't know, _their_ parents?"

"Fuck you Kaiba. Taking her side and shit." Bakura stood back up, going back around the bar. He ignored the angry gaze as he opened an expensive malt to fill his tumbler with. "I knew you had a thing for her."

" _Ha_. That's funny." He slid his glass over and allowed Bakura to once more play bartender as he filled it up. "Never been into the _preachy_ type."

"So damn preachy!" Bakura threw his hands up for emphasis, his dark eyes going wide, "Always going on about this and this. I told her she sounded better with my dick in her mouth.

"Wow, classy," the brunet mumbled as he took a sip from the dark liquor.

Whether Bakura heard him or not didn't matter since he continued on. "Guess what the wench said?" Kaiba shrugged in a noncommittal way. "Told me to stop disrespecting her. I was giving you a compliment woman."

Kaiba shook his head, sipping the expensive malt liquor. He knew Bakura could rant and rave about Tea for hours yet he claimed the woman meant nothing to him. According to Yami, they were still together and just not admitting it. "Sounds like a lot of bullshit I can't relate to."

"Fuck you again Kaiba—bet you're excited to get two fucks in one night, eh? More than you've had since those Yanks refused the crown," he sipped from his glass, "God Save the Queen."

"Oh, time for you to go." Kaiba set his glass down and snatched the one in Bakura's hand, the man mid sip. "You always over stay your welcome."

Bakura shrugged, "It's a part of my charm. Have you been charmed?" He winked.

"I'll let you know _never_." Kaiba casually grabbed the front of Bakura's shirt and kindly led him to the front door, where he opened it and shoved the man into the hall. "Next time you break into my house, _don't_." The brunet went to close the door when an expensive shoe blocked the door. He opened it more to see Bakura's brows raised. "What?"

"You're seriously not coming out with me?"

"Are you _kidding_ me right now Bakura? No you idiot, I'm kicking you out!"

"You're the muppet turning down tail." He paused, narrowing his eyes, "You fancy boys now Kaiba?"

"BYE."

Kaiba slammed the door in the man's face but still heard the cackle that disappeared down the hall. Okay, now he hated Yami _and_ Bakura but still more so Yami since he started it all. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? He wasn't sure what the answer to that was and after the day he'd had, he sure wasn't in the mood to dwell on it.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ:**

This update took longer than I liked. I recently moved into a new apartment, my internet sucks at times, I've had lame jury duty, and while working my current job I've been trying to find a new one. So my updates may be more spaced out than I'd like but I'm still aiming for one a month. Wait for meeeee!

There will be a bit of UK slang in this fanfic since I'm a sucker for it. No I won't be accurate on which area uses what slang, etc. I'll just be throwing in words as I please.

Arabic:

Ibn 'am – Cousin (Father's brother's son)

 **Posted Especially For:**

CeruleanSwan26 – I've been working very hard to work on my detailing so it has me excited it caught your attention! Thanks.

Becks – Yaaay! I was worried the characters true selves would get lost in this particular AU, but your observation relieves me. Thank you.

DarkManedFox – I am so glad you love Vaseshipping. I've never written it and I know how people have mixed feelings about it, but one fan of them is enough for me. And I'm hoping to keep the cheese and corn to the grocery stores. Ha, now that was gross. Hahaha.

Ruby of Raven – How could I not miss you! And you've been rereading my stuff? (Blush) So glad I have something new for you to read and more on 'Dahlia' is definitely coming.

Moon – Oh my word you say chic and fresh!? My excitement is in a great abundance. It's the vibe I was trying to put out without making it overtake the story. So glad you're enjoying it.

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!

Well I'm Out.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 4

Now Roaming

* * *

Kaiba felt his rage no longer necessary when the _ding_ of the elevator alerted him his little 'B &E' bestie was gone. He even checked through the peephole before opening the door, scanning the long hallway to make sure the man was gone. He eyed the space's corners and knew just the security cameras he'd be installing soon. If Bakura wanted to keep breaking in, he was going to find out how and make sure it stopped. It also wouldn't hurt to have when Yami came to visit (making sure to bring kids with him that were too short for the peephole) so he could turn the man away without opening the door to do it.

The brunet closed the door with a firm thud and locked it. He made his way back over to the bar and finished the last bit of liquor in his tumbler. He even dumped Bakura's leftovers into the glass, chugging the burning liquid down. He carried the used glasses into the kitchen and opened the dishwasher. He used this opportunity to load any additional items in his sink which were minimal since he lived alone and rarely cooked.

It wasn't until Kaiba set a plate in the lower rack, rolled it back inside the machine, and went to stand up that he stumbled back into the counter. His head spun with speeds matching the Earth's orbit and he felt him body veer to the right; his arm moving in slow motion in a vain attempt to catch the lean against the counter. " _Shiiit_ ," he slurred as he steadied against the counter if just to get the appliance's door closed.

The alcohol chose now to attack his empty stomach—shit, he _hadn't_ had any dinner. It didn't help that he drank with Bakura—the guy was a seasoned alcoholic after all. And the drinks Bakura mixed were beyond the category of stiff—stiff was Mokuba every time music and a dance floor presented itself. Those drinks were more along the lines of Superman's bones. Now Kaiba felt like he was trying to fly around the world fast enough to turn back time as he wobbled over to his cell-phone to order some takeout he was suddenly craving something _bad_.

An hour later Kaiba was sprawled out on his couch scrupulously ameliorated. His tie limp around his neck; his dress shirt unbuttoned and his shoes and socks missing. His eyes had a clear sheen and his coffee table was littered with the boxes of the most delicious oil filled Chinese takeout he'd had in a while. He gazed listlessly at a dueling competition where an older gentleman and teen were heatedly throwing down trap and magic cards. He chuckled darkly when the older man's monster exploded in a show of holographic perfection.

Within five minutes he easily read where the duel was headed and flipped through the channels. Nothing worth watching was on (especially since he had Netflix) but the murmur of the television was nice to his fuzzy brain. Kaiba settled on an American news channel where two men in suits were arguing back and forth about stock exchange and taxes. He rubbed his face, lazily taking in the put on debate. Suddenly his phone buzzed loudly against a takeout box. He grabbed it and flipped it right side up just as more texts flooded the device. They were all from Bakura.

Bakura sent him five photos of him motor-boating busty babes and being sandwiched between leggy ladies: ' _Wishing you were me, mmm?_ ' Another photoset came in showing him next to a bottle of one of Kaiba's favorite vodkas: ' _Wishing you were arseholed off this shit, eh?_ ' The next sets showed the club's sleek design, heavy crowd and a DJ playing what he assumed was decent music: ' _Wishing you were here, huh bitch?_ '

Kaiba _hated_ Bakura, yes, but now he had to come to terms that maybe he also hated a small part of himself. Why? Because a teeny-tiny-minuscule piece of himself did want to be there _arseholed_ off vodka and squished between plush women. He was technically his own boss after all; he could have gone out with the man and just played hooky the next day. Thinking about it now, he had a feeling Yami would have approved his absence. Maybe he would have even left him alone for twenty-four hours. But he never needed Yami's approval or Bakura's company to meet women. Or even Joey's charity blind dates. He was Seto Kaiba, a successful good looking man that was perfectly capable of dooming himself into a life time of loneliness on his own. The evidence of Chinese takeout cluttering his coffee table and the ' _O'Reily Factor_ ' hissing on the TV was proof enough.

He growled as his phone buzzed again. He flipped it over to find a video this time. Pressing play, he gawked at the overabundance of hot women and suited men loudly singing 'Happy Birthday' to the alleged birthday boy Bakura in broken English. The camera panned down to even show a cake with damn candles— _twenty five_ candles at that. Kaiba quickly left the video and deleted the text message conversation from his phone. In contemplating whether to throw his phone across the room, his fingers tapped his call log and he was now staring down a familiar number. He licked his suddenly dry feeling lips and wondered about his next move.

' _Am I drunk enough for this?_ ' This was Kaiba's only concern at the moment, though he knew this wasn't the real question. ' _Am I lonely enough for this?_ ' Slowly he leaned forward and attempted to grab the remote off the coffee table. When he face planted into the couch cushions and accidentally 'recalled' back to the duel, finding it once more interesting, he knew both questions were answered with a firm _yes_. Quickly he tapped the number in his call log.

" _You've reached 10-10-2-Do Me. Enter or speak the credit card number you'd like to use and then press...pound, baby._ " He grunted out a number and had to repeat it since he seemed to have slurred too much the first time around. Luckily it went through the _fourth_ time when he just sucked it up and used the keypad.

"Hi sexy, my name's Candy and I'm just as sweet." Did Candy always answer the phone? Or was he just calling on her shift? Or did every women call herself Candy? Did they not have males who answered? What would his name be? Jolly Rancher? Hershey? "You there baby?"

Oh shit he was zoning out. "Um…yeah….hey." He cleared the leftover grease from his throat and managed to somehow mute the TV.

"Don't be shy honey—"

"I'm drunk, not shy and I want to speak to a woman." He was sure Candy was looking for another job now but when he'd been aggressively drinking, he tended to be pushier than needed. The first call showed a sliver of that.

"Preferences?"

Oh yeah, he had to choose a kink. "Um, I want to—um… _interracial_?" Wait, how would Candy know his race and know what race he wanted?

"What race sweetie?"

He sighed with relief at the question until he realized he couldn't answer it. "Uhh…" Wait, what race was the girl he spoke with? African? Latino? Hispanic? South Asian? Polynesian? The list went on and on! There were so many women out there that were caramel colored he had no idea what to ask for. He didn't care about her race but he did want to find _her_. "Surprise me." Surely Dahlia wasn't a rare find. It shouldn't be that hard to get connected to her line.

"Hold on while I connect you babe." The cheesy hold music was back in full swing.

Kaiba shifted himself around so he was comfortably lying on the couch and jammed a hand down his pants. After a few painful tugs, he removed his hand and fumbled around in his suit coat. He successfully located his hand lotion just as a voice came into his ear.

"Hello…"

"…Who is this?" Kaiba was close to making a mess when trying to unscrew the lid to the lotion while having the 'easy-squeeze' top popped open. But this didn't make sense to him at this drunken moment in time.

"This is Salinas, _papi_." Kaiba froze in fumbling with the lotion and made an utterly aghast face. This was _not_ his caramel dipped voice-mate. Rather than respond, he hung up the phone and immediately called back, punching in his credit card number.

"Hi sexy, my name's Candy and I'm just as sweet."

"Candy, I didn't want Salinas."

"You called before, baby?" A hint of recognition in her tone.

"Yes, I requested interracial and you connected me to Salinas."

"I'm sorry honey, let me get you something more to your liking?"

The unspoken question hung in the air and Kaiba forced his brain to move a little bit faster to pick a damn race. "Indian?"

"One moment hot stuff." Kaiba went back to busying himself with the lotion that just did not want to open to save his life.

"Hello…"

Kaiba heard the familiar roll of an 'R' and his ears perked up. "Who is this?"

"This is Lavanya. What may I—" Yet again he hung up and called right back.

"Hi sexy, my name's Candy and I'm just as sweet." Wow, did she really have to say that every time? Was she the only one working incoming calls? Oh shit, he was doing it _again_. Like a cheap camera he needed to focus.

"Candy, it's _me_ —wrong girl, _again_."

"…Excuse me?" Candy's character slipped for a moment and she sounded utterly annoyed. Quickly she cleared he throat. "I'm… _so_ _sorry_ sweetie."

"I want to talk to someone in particular."

"Her name?"

For the life of him, Kaiba could not remember the name of the woman he spoke to the last time but why was he reminded of murder? "I don't…remember?"

Candy actually let out an annoyed sigh at this, "What about her name do you remember?"

He didn't care for Candy's sass but he had to find this woman and she was his only help. "Her name…it's like… _murder_ …" That was probably one of the dumbest things he ever said.

"Dahlia?"

" _Dahlia_?" Kaiba said it like a foreign word he'd heard before. Like Spanish vocabulary to an American student.

"Yes, Dahlia, as in the 'Black Dahlia Murder'…AKA Elizabeth Short; the Californian brutally murdered in 1947."

Who knew Candy was so well read on American murder mysteries? "I believe so—"

"Let me connect you sexy," Candy quickly cut in, allowing the hold music to fill up the phone space. Obviously she wasn't in the mood to deal with him anymore. For good measure, Kaiba saved the sex phone line number as 'Dahlia,' while he waited for the woman to pick up. He had a good feeling about this.

"Hello…"

"Who is this?" He was once more distracted by his damn impossible hand lotion. Who made bottles like this?

The voice sounded confused and rightly so, "This is Dahlia; who am I speaking with?"

As soon as that lightly accented English permeated through the fog the alcohol created, he felt his body take on a slightly higher temperature. " _Dahlia_ , hello."

"Hi." She sounded so hospitable.

"This is the Chairman." A sleazy smirk crossed his lips as he listened to her almost shy chuckle. His smile grew in perversion while he squirted too much lotion into his hand. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well…" Something was left lingering.

" _Well_ …?"

"Simply missing you…this business trip has been too long without you near…"

Oh, she was jumping right into it? "Where are you?"

"Overseas—London."

"Mmm…are you back at your hotel room?"

"Mmmhm…"

"What do you miss about me?"

"The way your hands feel on my body."

"Mmm," his hand sneaked back down his slacks, "your caramel sweet body right?"

"That's right Chairman," was the almost breathy response. "I miss you touching me…"

"How do you want me to touch you?" He lazily stroked himself, his eyes going half-lid. His apartment was becoming a haze as he drifted into a reality of sex. "Want me to be rough or gentle?"

"The Chairman decides."

" _You_ decide." Pause—a long pregnant pause. Kaiba even checked his phone to make sure the line hadn't disconnected. Just as he was about to ask if Dahlia was still there, a breath of withheld need washed over his ear and straight to his crotch. He bit his lip as he groaned lowly in the line, "Do you like that? The idea of me touching you how _you_ _want_?"

"… _Mm_ … _yeah_ …"

"Fuck you want it so bad, don't you?"

"I-I," her breath caught in her throat, "I _want_ it."

"Want me to show up," his hand jerked his foreskin just right causing his tongue to lather around his lips, "rip your stockings off, and push you face down into the bed?"

"Oh _Allah_ yes…" Kaiba paused only for a moment at the mention of the God. "I want you to take my panties off but leave my skirt on…"

" _Shit_ , I damn well will." His hand worked harder across his length—his thumb nail grazing his slit. He bit back a groan, letting loose a pant that matched Dahlia's quickening breath. "Pull your skirt up, smack that ass—"

" _Ah_ , _yeah_ , spank me," she moaned, "want you to mark me Chairman."

"I'll leave handprints all over that ass." Kaiba cocked his wrist and a rumbling groan left his lips at the new sensation. "Then I'll lead forward…lick from the top to the _bottom_." He was shocked at the broken off whine that vibrated against his ear and shot straight down below. He worked his hand harder, "Feel _you_ on my _tongue_."

"Oh my Allah," Dahlia's breath was coming in quicker succession as (what it sounded like) she tried to steady herself. "I want you here, I want you in-between my thighs."

"I'd fuck you so deep," his hand moved faster, "lick your nipples and play with your clit."

" _Oh_! You're going to make me come Chairman!"

Kaiba squeezed his appendage until the pain added to the arousal, "You want to come so bad, don't you?"

" _Mmhm_ , _yes_."

"Fuck, you're so fucking sexy Dahlia. Tell me," he croaked, clenching that hard piece of flesh to painfully pleasurable levels, "tell me how to make you come."

Kaiba wasn't too sure if his words came out hotter than he knew, or even if he said something remarkable, but what he did know was that Dahlia was _moaning_. Not her usual breathy whimpers or withheld groans, she was full blown moaning in his ear. The passion so unbridled, so needy, so raw—before his mind could even finish processing the sound, he let out a gargled shout as he felt warmth spill over his fingers and hand. He shoved a second hand down to fondle his sensitive sack as he gently jacked himself soft. "… _Fuuuuuck_."

"Good?" Dahlia still sounded a little winded but was finding her breath again. This reign in on her control disappointed him.

"Oh yeah… Really good."

Once more her tinkling laugh crunched through the speaker, "I'm glad."

He was faced with another pregnant pause just like the first time Kaiba called and found his completion. However this time he didn't want Dahlia to wrap things up. He had…a question. "Did…did I turn you on?"

She didn't immediately answer. Instead he could hear her smile through the phone. "Does it _matter_ Chairman?"

A question he'd been asking himself all night. He snorted as he lazily grabbed a napkin to clean himself up. "I guess not—you should get into things more…" He shimmied out of his pants to access the mess, "It made things better for me."

"Pleasing you is all that matters, right Chairman?"

"That's right." His smug reply she found amusing because he was once more listening to that clean airy laugh.

"I hope you can now rest well Chairman."

"I'm sure I will." Even now Kaiba could feel the pull of sleep tugging at his eyelids. He let out a great yawn, slipping a hand back down his briefs to be reminded of the left over semen now sticky against the fabric.

"Sleep well Chairman." Dahlia ended the call.

Kaiba lie there taking in the afterglow of the call before sluggishly getting on his feet. He turned off the TV and gathered up his trash. He waddled into kitchen to throw the items away and grabbed a bottle of water as an afterthought. He went upstairs to his room with the intention of getting out of his sweaty, stained clothes but the moment he sat down on his bed, he passed out. This time the caramel dipped woman with full lips had a remarkable ass and moaned only for him.

 **Las Vegas, Nevada**

"Well, well, _weeelll_ …"

Ignore it. All she had to do was ignore it.

"Oh, so you're just going to act like that wasn't _hot_?"

Isis Ishtar felt her face blaze bright red as she took off her headset for the day. She focused on her computer screen as she filled out her timecard. She really hoped her nosy neighbor was still on the phone, but knowing his track record, he was probably filling out his timecard as well. Peeking slightly to the right, Isis nearly fell out of her seat when a pair of knowing black lined jade colored eyes had an ink black brow cocked at her.

"Oh, I thought you were on a call," she shyly began packing up her items as her computer started shutting down. She made sure to keep her eyes on loading her water bottle and other items into her bag since that was a _very_ bothersome job.

"Were you _actually_ on a call? If so, that's probably the _sexiest_ I've heard you since you started." His other brow raised to join its brother in agreement.

Isis chuckled nervously as the strap to her bag missed her shoulder the first tug. "I, well, _you_ _know_ ," she shrugged as she tried to simultaneously put the strap over shoulder, causing it to fall by her hip yet again. "My callers…enjoy themselves."

"So you say." The eyes disappeared and she heard the commotion of the guy packing up his own items; the ding of his computer signaling a maintenance shut down. "I was sure only prudes and religious workers called you—how else could a virtually silent sex worker get a steady clientele?"

"Well—!" Isis spluttered as she nervously twirled her long braid around her arm. "I-I get other people as well Duke."

Said co-worker, Duke Devlin, reappeared in his full leather and tattoo glory, "I see that now. This ' _Chairman_ ' guy sounds like a kinky bastard. Does he actually get you hot?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Isis asked as she brushed past him, heading to the breakroom to retrieve her lunch bag. Of course he followed after her.

"Oh, I don't know," Duke noncommittally began, putting a few coins in the nearby vending machine. "Because that seems to be the only way you can get into stuff like this." He made his selection; the whir of the machinery dropping the fizzing drink below. "Would you not agree?"

Isis turned to his stooped down form, reaching for his drink and suddenly had the desire to knock him over. She instead gave one of her famous glares that came off more motherly than vicious, "I do _not_."

"Hm," Duke's grin was temporarily hidden behind a can of Rockstar. "So you say…"

"Mr. Devlin, how about you focus on your regulars and leave me and my doings be?" Isis' brow cocked up in mock annoyance as she headed for the elevators, Duke still on her heels.

"Sadly my regulars are overly pleased with my work—I mean, how could they not be?" He posed against the wall: hip cocked out in too tight leather pants as his right arm coolly supported him against the wall. "So I tend to get a little bored and listen around. I never hear you, so I have to ask what's going on the _one_ time I do."

She huffed, leaving it at that — mostly out of embarrassment — as the doors dinged open showing many other workers heading home for the night. Most hid their faces while others were busy on their phones. Isis boarded with Duke and stared at the digital numbers blipping down to that coveted 'P1' floor.

"Got any plans for your days off?" Duke suddenly inquired as he took another swig from his can.

Isis sighed as she looked down at her feet. She twiddled her exposed toes thinking of how bad she needed to repaint them. "My brother will most likely plan something for me."

"Most likely," Duke agreed as he chuckled, glancing up at the elevator doors.

They finally dinged open and everyone let out a collective hiss at the bright sunlight burning in through the open doorway. The sex-hotline was naturally a 24hour operation, needing the most staffing during the nocturnal hours. Isis happened to be a part of that nocturnal staff and no matter how many times she knew that bright desert sun was going to be there when she left, she was still never ready for it, as well as everyone else.

The riders piled off, some sprinting to their cars. Duke rolled his eyes, "You'd think some of the people work here against their will. If you're that embarrassed about it, quit. _Sheesh_."

Isis nodded in agreement as she made a stop at her purple and white topped Mini Cooper. "Thank you for walking me to my car."

"No problem. I promised your brother that if you started working here, I'd make sure the only perverts talking to you would be the callers and well, of course me." He wiggled his eyebrows lewdly resulting in Isis giving his bicep a firm slap. "Enjoy your time off Isis."

"Same to you Duke." Isis watched the guy walk over to his sport-bike before she climbed inside her car. She set her items on the passenger-side seat and watched the other cars exiting the parking garage.

Isis watched as Duke whizzed through the door before following. She came to the stop light right before the highway and watched the traffic already picking up. When Isis made the very last minute decision to move to Las Vegas, she truly didn't comprehend how awful the traffic was. Her younger brother, Malik Ishtar, often complained about how long it took him to get anywhere. She assumed it was because he'd gotten enough speeding tickets to where he now had to follow traffic laws. This of course was not the case when he'd picked her up from the airport almost two years ago; she'd gripped her seatbelt with all she had, sure this would be her last ride ever.

But she understood his aggressive driving now. As a Tesla cut her off before slamming on their breaks, Isis slammed on her horn before whipping her small car into a small slot around them. The Tesla driver flipped her off before running a red light. This was not an isolated event in Vegas. With ' _Sin City_ ' being a hub for international persons as well as tourists and those maybe occupied by a controlled substance, accidents and traffic went hand-in-hand. When Isis bought her treasured Mini Cooper, her brother worried about her being crushed by other drivers. But Isis felt safe in something she could zip around in and fit into tight spaces. It was a representation of the person she was becoming—who she always had been.

Ten minutes into her commute home, Isis reached for her sunglasses as she drove into the Nevada sun. Despite the surrounding civilization of great buildings built with the intentions of attracting unique attention, and the ever colorful Las Vegas patrons, Nevada itself was a beautiful place that wasn't lost in the phantasm lakes of hot winding asphalt of yellow and white lines. Smoothly carved coffee colored mountains sat strong under the clear blue sky with the never waning sun bathing all in its light and heat. The sandy white and golden brown patches of ground littered with rough true-green shrubs; trees stunted in their grown due to the lack of water and cacti appearing plump and prickly.

Isis clicked on the radio and hummed along to some 'Top 40' song about love, before her mind started wandering back to work. Their shifts changed every pay period; this particular two week period she had Sunday, Monday and Tuesday off. The call center was very flexible in its shifts considering the nature of the work. 'Illusion Entertainment' was one of the larger entertainment companies based in Vegas. They owned many sex affiliated businesses and were one of the premiere companies to get on with. They offered medical insurance, paid sick leave, vacation days, personal time, 401K, etc. Isis had chosen the place during a low time in her life, not even realizing it was a smart temporary career move. In just a year she'd received a raise as well as a bonus for her clientele numbers growing. Despite her lack of reoccurring callers, she was excellent in managing call volume like many other extras in the office.

She can remember going through training feeling like she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life. But Isis didn't have much backing her to get a good paying job and good paying was not an option living in the well-known city. College hadn't been an option for her situation and though she had jobs, they were mainly part-time before she became a stay-at-home-slave as she viewed it. But all of that was behind her now. A year and a half later and she was making great money, doing a job that expanded herself as a person and a woman. She'd never been able to express her sexuality so fluidly but Las Vegas was well equipped for such discoveries. She knew she didn't want to stay forever, but for now, it was where she needed to be.

The city of Paradise was just twenty to thirty minutes outside of Las Vegas — forty five minutes considering the traffic — and it's served as the location of where she lived. The community was right off a main road flanked by 7/11s, gas stations, fast-food locations and a few sit-down eateries; as well as tanning salons, spas, and 'Happy Ending' parlors that weren't shy about anything. The cookie cutter neighborhood of modern Tuscan style condos and homes by the name of 'The Sands of Paradise' is where Isis laid her head thanks to Malik.

The neighborhood entrance was flanked on either side by shallow beds housing smooth cream colored stones walled in by bright red stones, stacked atop one another in true Sante Fe landscaping. Thick golden trunks of jagged triangles shot high from these pits; capped with thick leaves of green. The palm trees were surrounded by dwarfed shrubs of small purple flowers, and median sized bushes that grew long stems of green littered with red petals. She rolled through the suntanned colored homes accented with rich chocolate colored rooves, garage doors, entry ways, as well as lining the windows and walkways.

An almost identical modern Tuscan style home to the rest had its garage door open. On one side was a freshly waxed 1969 Chevy Camaro SS in a sleek matte black; the other housed the owner of the home, who was sitting on a rolling shop stool working on a taken apart Harley Davidson 48 with ape hangers and a custom paint job. West Coast rap blasted from the mounted speakers surrounded by sketches of different designs and posters of attractive models next to fast cars. A tool caddy was parked next to the wanna-be-mechanic who looked very disgruntled with his two wheel toy.

Isis pulled her Mini Cooper into the driveway and got out just to hear 'FUCK THE POLICE' booming from the garage. " _Malik_!"

The blond glanced over to his sister before pushing his feet against the cement, rolling clear across the garage on his stool, to where a remote sat forgotten in a lawn chair. He turned down the music and extended his arms, "My prodigal sister returns." He blindly reached for a conveniently placed oil stained towel, haphazardly wiping his hands.

"When are you going to stop calling me that?" Isis grabbed her items from the passenger seat before bumping the door closed with her hip, chirping the car locked.

He threw the towel randomly over his shoulder, "When I stop feeling like I killed the fatted calf." A kohl rimmed lilac eye winked as he wheeled himself back over to his precious diva named after an ex-girlfriend.

"What are you doing?" Isis crossed her arms as she poked the front tire with the bottom of her sandal.

Malik let out a long huff that blew a stray golden dread from the almost neat bun he had on his head. "Vivian is being problematic, you know, the usual." He motioned to the central part of the machine, "My engine's running fat."

"…Pardon?"

"The engine is running rich—too much fuel compared to air. It's making thicker exhaust, fouling my spark plugs and making the engine run thicker than peanut-butter."

Isis blinked once, then again, "Sounds…great?"

Malik popped a brow high, "But it's… _really_ not."

" _Oh_?"

Malik let out a long laugh that his sister joined in. He reached out taking her nearest hand in his dirty palm, "How was work?"

Despite the filth, Isis rubbed her thumb back and forth across his knuckles. "The same old?" She affectionately took her other hand and patted the top of his before allowing her lips to fall by her side. "What should I make for dinner?"

Malik's lips titled down in the perfect arch as he nodded, "Hm…that's _not_ what Duke said."

Of _course_ Duke would be quick to text her brother about what happened. Her face flamed hotter than she assumed Vivian's engine. "I said _what_ do you want for dinner?" Isis rushed past Malik as he jumped up, following his bashful older sister.

"Oh no you don't!"

"Leave me alone Malik!" Was the very immature response as Isis ran into the house.

"No!" He swiped for the back of her shirt and missed, huffing out a laugh, "Who is this pervert? The ' _Carebear_?' Sounds like pedophile to me!"

"It's the ' _Chairman_ ' and he's just a regular!" Isis found herself in the kitchen on one side of the island while Malik on the other. "Actually, he's my only regular." Jerked right and Malik jerked left; this continued on until Isis successfully faked him out, taking off into the living room where his foot caught some motorcycle boots she told Malik to put away. She toppled down onto the couch and before she could get up, Malik was tackling her. Isis let out a squeaking laugh as he left sloppy raspberries all over her neck. "Malik unhand me!"

"I will _only_ after you promise me he's not asking you to talk about peeing on him and sucking your thumb!" He grunted when she slapped him on the arm around her waist resulting in him biting her shoulder.

"Um, _OW_ , Ma-lik!" She scolded as she elbowed him in his ribs.

"Promise woman!" She wheezed out a laugh as he squeezed her in a tight hug, unaffected by her blow.

"I promise, I promise! Now let me go!"

"Good." He shoved her out of his embrace landing her on the hard tiled floor much to his amusement. He stretched out like a queen surveying at a party, even having the nerve to inspect his nails as she glared from the ground. "You know I have to watch out for you. I've sucked ass at it in the beginning but I'm making up for lost time."

"Time is never lost." Isis affectionately patted his face before landing a slap to his. Malik squawked indignantly as making she made her way into the kitchen. "Now what do you want?"

"For you to be happy."

" _Malik_." Isis went to getting ingredients out of the fridge and pantry.

"I'm serious Isis. How long do you plan to work at the sexy line?" Her brother was probably the most open-minded person Isis knew, but he knew she was worth more than getting people off on the phone. It warmed her heart to have someone in her corner.

She shrugged as she set the oven to preheat, "I guess until I finish my degree." Isis was currently doing hybrid classes where everything but the final was online. "Then I can finally get a job I can tell people about."

" _Psh_ , who cares what they think? You make good money with great perks. I just want you to be doing something you love." Malik leaned against the counter watching as she cleaned produce in the sink. "I know telling perverts how hot they make you isn't how you pictured things at 29."

She gave a dry laugh, "Definitely not. Now how about you go finish with Vivian and making the neighbors uncomfortable?"

"Call me when it's ready," he called over his shoulder before the door to the garage slammed, followed by the more heavy bass lines and proclamations of 'FUCK THE POLICE.'

She rolled her eyes as she went to chopping up lettuce for a salad to go with the chicken she was planning to prepare. Despite her brother's appearance — body littered in tattoos with a sleeve for each arm, well-kept platinum blonde dreads, ears pierced from the top to the bottom as well as his a hoop for his septum — and age (barley 24) he was quite ambitious and that same ambition made him successful.

He had always loved art and could be caught sketching when he wasn't chasing girls and boys or skipping class. Their parents saw him as lazy before he got his first tattoo: big block letters spelling 'KING' on the back of his neck. After that he upgraded to delinquent. They tried everything from private school to home schooling. Malik had a habit of finding trouble no matter where he was. He proved this time and time again before he finally was sent away to a school for bad kids located in the remote desert of Nevada. However this didn't slow Malik down. He and a bunch of the newly made friends would sneak into Las Vegas at every opportunity that presented itself. When Malik called saying he wasn't coming home, Isis was probably the only one who didn't worry about him to some extreme extent.

After a year of questionable jobs (he still wouldn't admit to stripping) Malik joined one of the premiere tattoo shops in the area: 'Black Crown Ink.' It was ranked as one of the top 10 parlors in the area and was owned by none other than Duke Devlin, Isis' nosy co-worker. Despite owning the successful tattoo parlor, Duke's business ventures never stopped. Making his millions off of being a world poker champion, the guy was always looking for his next rush. He started working at the phone sex line to get hands on experience to expand his empire into the sex industry. With focus elsewhere, he entrusted Malik to running the parlor. Many doubted his abilities but within a few months after the promotion, he'd won over not only the staff but many new clientele, upping the rank on the shop.

Isis couldn't have been more proud of her brother. Malik's work ethic may have wavered at times, but when it came to something he was passionate about, his determination always went into overdrive. She always envied his rebellious nature and ' _I'm going to be me regardless_ ' attitude. If she didn't have him in her life, taking those phone calls late at night when she cried herself sick, she knew she wouldn't have ever had the courage to leave Cairo that Fall.

Isis was bent on reinventing herself into the woman she'd always wanted to be: confident, poised, intelligent and driven. She felt well on her way to this goal and even though most would find the idea of a regular at a sex line revolting or even weird as empowering, Isis couldn't help but feel oddly indebted to the ' _Chairman_.' He surely didn't know and she had zero intentions of letting him know, but he was the first person to ever ask for her repeatedly. She now had her first regular after working there far too long not to have gotten someone. She felt validated in her temporary career move and felt the stroke to her ego, push her right along to her next goals.

But after her last shift, she wondered if the way she felt was strictly sexual or something else. Isis didn't want to jump the gun and cut off the man; she knew she was overthinking it. But she'd never had a man _ask_ her how she wanted a sexual experience to go. It was always their way or the highway and that wasn't just exclusive to sex. She let out a heavy sigh, the delicious smell of baking chicken breast pulling her back to reality. For now, things were good, and she would keep them as they were. Like a true Ishtar, she could worry about the consequences of her actions as they came at a later date.

"Malik, let's eat!"

"Fuck the police Isis!"

"But of course."

* * *

 **PLEASE READ:**

UPDATE TIIIME~! I'm back guys! Sorry this took so long; I've been running around trying to find a new job and I'm hoping I have! Whether you pray, chant, send positivity in the Universe, let me selfishly ask you to direct all towards me to improve my chances of landing this job. Hahaha.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed FINALLY getting a peek into Isis' life. I intentionally wait until what I felt like the right moment was for her reveal and I hope it was as interesting as I think it is. Hahaha. Now, I'm aware I was very cryptic on Isis' past and it'll be that way for only a short time. The drama won't be serious since this is supposed to be a fun story, but I had to justify Isis working at a sex phone place to myself as well as give you all the decency to explain it other than 'she just did it.' If Kaiba has a reason to call, Isis has a reason to answer. Character sex service usage equality! Hahaha.

 **Posted Especially For:**

CerulanSwan26 – I definitely meant sparkling. Thank you for pointing that out! Anything else you see that's weird, don't hesitate to let me know. And thank you for appreciate the detail. It's really been a challenge that I now adore.

Becks – YES! Another person who loves British slang. It's just so fun to my American ears. Hahaha. And Kaiba is a rich son-of-a-bitch. You know, you just inspired me. Look forward to someone calling out his wealthy tush in future chapters. (Wink)

Guest (1): So not only did THIS update take forever as well but you get sexy time. Hahaha. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

The Thief A Pharaoh A Priest – And I couldn't be more excited over this review! Thank you very much.

Ruby of Raven – Kaiba will never not be harassed as long as I have a keyboard and the latest edition of Microsoft Word. Hahaha. Yay! I'm glad you weren't turned off by the idea. I really wanted to do some change up and make things new just to keep the interest going. And my name must be 'ballet' if I keep you on your toes. (Elbow nudge) See what I did there? (Wink)

TR: I will work harder in the future to not be so promiscuous and to have some level of creativity to my craft. Thank you for the criticism!

Guest (2): So glad you're a fan of my whorish storytelling! (Heart)

Guest (3): Trolls will never die—this is very true. Look at mythology and how hard of a time it took to vanquish them.

Moon: Jury duty was AWFUL but I made it through, thanks for the sympathy. And I had a giggle fest at you giving me a 'YAS slaying.' Never thought I'd have a fanfic get such praise! It was greatly appreciated.

Dexter: Are Slut Alerts like Amber Alerts? Instead of being on the lookout for like, a red Honda Civic with Virginia tags, is it now a 5'6 brunette wearing an eBay body con dress? I hope you can get back to me and let me know.

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!

Well I'm Out.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 5

Blocked Number

* * *

" _Iiisssiiisss_!"

Isis pushed her glasses on her head—the plastic frame hitting her messy bun. "What is it?" Her fingers automatically tapped CTRL + S on her laptop.

Malik, who was sprawled out on the couch with his feet digging under her thighs for warmth, was pouting from over his bowl of gummy bears, " _Stooop_ working and watch this show with _meee_!"

Isis glanced uninterestedly at the mounted 82in flat screen showing a crisp image of a topless woman twirling around a pole. " _Malik_ …"

"What?" He mumbled around a handful of chewy sugar, his eyes glued to the mahogany skinned woman jiggling her breast for a regular. "Harper is _bae_ Isis." He giggled when said stripper stumbled off the stage, before explaining to the camera she used too much pole oil. "Cute…"

"'Is _bae_?' What does that even mean?" Isis reached across taking a few bears from the bowl earning a firm kick to her leg. She retaliated by pinching Malik's big toe.

"You're _so_ _old_ and _so_ _lame_ Isis." Malik sat up as the TV alerted them ' _Show_ _them_ _Girls_ ' would be right back. "It means that she's my favorite and soon to be my wife. Her skin is flawless, her ass looks like the best peach ever grown in the world, and don't even get me started on her boobs." He grabbed two throw pillows, holding them up as if they were breast, before smashing them in his face—vigorously shaking his head back and forth. When he looked up from his make-believe motorboat session, Isis looked _very_ unimpressed.

" _Ah_ , I see Malik. Then why don't you go find this ' _bae_ ' of yours and make it happen?"

"Because this season of ' _Show_ _them_ _Girls_ ' isn't shot in Vegas, but stupid Miami." He crossed his arms petulantly and pouting, "Everyone knows Miami girls are hard to land."

"Mmmmm," Isis glasses were once more resting on her nose as her fingers flew across the keys of her Surface Book.

"Are you even listening to _meee_?" He grabbed her arm and shook it rapidly as he bounced in place on the couch. Sometimes she wondered if five-year-old Malik just physically matured and that was it.

"Why are you being such a whiner right now?" Isis looked down over her glasses at the bothersome boy. "I'm trying to work on my paper."

Immediately he leaned in, resting his head on her shoulder. "What is it about? Maybe I can help."

"The Civil War."

"Never mind—I don't do boring shit."

Isis gave him a 'love tap' right on the face before continuing her paper. Luckily Malik's stripper reality show was back on, so she could continue on in peace. Even though Malik continued to lie on her, he was at least quiet as one of his least favorite characters took the stage. She knew she could easily go to her room and have some peace and quiet, but she wasn't much of a fan of being alone after her time in Cairo. She'd gladly take Malik indirectly wanting her to baby him and being a nuisance than have to sit in another room listening to herself breathe.

"Oh, oh!" Malik slapped her leg repeatedly as he stared at the screen, "Look! Natalie is finally getting what she deserves…" The two watched as Natalie and her equally buxom twin, Natalia, proceeded to have an all-out fist-fight in the backstage locker-room of the strip club. Natalia — a redhead with questionable piercings — aimed a perfect punch to her identical twin's nose; the next scene showing blood gushing from Natalie's — a brunette with questionable botox — face, Malik hummed in approval. " _Allah_ _yenowar_ Natalia."

"How could you watch such trash Malik?" She wasn't accusing or passing judgment since she'd once more tapped those 'save document' hot keys and grabbed more gummy bears, staring at the sibling showdown with curiosity.

"Because I am an Americanized 3rd generation delinquent."

Despite herself Isis chuckled at the very words her father accused Malik of being. "Then enjoy your trashy TV."

"Better be glad it's night time—I love a good ' _the baby is NOT yours_ ' marathon." He stood up as he made his way into the kitchen, only to return with a tub of ice-cream, two spoons, and some napkins.

Immediately Isis set her laptop away and took her respected spoon. "I swear I've gained so much weight since moving in with you." Despite the statement she was quick to spoon cold sweet sugar into her mouth and repeat the action with a few gummy bears added in.

"You needed it," Malik mumbled around a mouthful of rainbow sherbet covered in only clear gummy bears. "You were 10 pounds when I got you from the airport, and no anaconda is going to want that hotdog bun you had."

"Hotdog bun?" She licked her spoon clean before diving back in, "How can someone have a hotdog _bun_? Wouldn't it be hotdog bun _s_?"

He set his spoon down and grabbed two napkins folding them in half. "Okay, say these are both hotdog buns."

" _Kwayis_ …" She took another sweet bite, giving her brother her full attention.

He then took the flower printed napkins and held them side by side. "This is how Aunt Majdala's ass looks."

Isis' eyebrows scrunch together in concern, "Did my bottom look that way?"

"No, not at all. Your ass looked like…" He set the second napkin down and unfolded it, " _THIS_. This is how your ass looked—flat with a fucking crease. You only had _one_ bun. You were an open faced sandwich with nothing but disappointment."

Isis actually had the nerve to gasp, "You're being mean Malik."

"No I'm not! This is seriously how it looked. You went from ' _bae'_ to ' _no_ _damn_ _way_.'" He threw one of the napkins at her, "Here's your old ass back." Suddenly he was ducking from the barrage of fists colliding with his face and torso. "OW OW! STOP ISIS!"

"Then do not insult my body." She leaned back, satisfied with his punishment before shoveling more ice cream in her mouth. "But really, I cannot believe I was so thin."

"People lose weight when they're not happy." He shrugged finally taking a bite from the tub. "You, my _Okhti_ , was very unhappy."

"Mm," she hummed in agreement as she took another spoonful. "That I was Malik."

" _Buuut_ you're happy now because you get to live in sexy Las Vegas with your sexy little brother." He winked which earned him yet again 'love tap.' "If you keep hitting me I'm kicking you out."

Isis laughed around a mouthful of cold ice-cream. "Okay, okay, _ana_ _asfa_." She sighed, glancing up at the now reconciling twin sister strippers. "You know I appreciate you, right?"

" _Yeees_!" He clunked his head down on her bosom, resting the ice-cream tub on his chest.

Isis adjusted to his makeshift cuddling: shifting so he lie between her legs, his back pressed against her lower belly and hips; his head comfortably nestled against her bosom. She lazily played with his dreads while continuing to shove ice-cream into her mouth. From there the two continued their evening of one trashy reality show after another. Around midnight, a rerun of the show they'd originally started began, and Malik's snores were getting louder. After gently shaking him awake and earning a lazy hug and a mumbled ' _masa el khayr_ ,' Isis turned off the TV and went to cleaning up the kitchen and straightening up the living room.

Once all the dishes were in the dishwasher, countertops were wiped down, and the throw pillows and remotes were where they needed to be, Isis turned the lights out and went down the hall to Malik's room. The boy was face-planted on his gaudy Ed Hardy sheets, a trail of his clothes leading from the door to the edge of the bed. Despite him already back asleep, Isis came in and moved him from halfway to fully under the sheets before pulling the tattoo inspired duvet snug around his shoulder.

Against her better judgment, Isis returned to the kitchen to grab a paper-towel full of gummy bears, before she took the stairs up to the attic where she now resided. Malik had the space converted to a studio style apartment complete with its own bathroom, kitchenette, and private entrance. He use to rent it out to make some extra cash, but after Isis' world began to crumble, he quickly took down his Craigslist ad and offered her the space. She said she would live there _only_ if she could pay rent which she did no matter how many times he declined her money.

Glancing over at the stack of books sitting on the small kitchen table in the middle of the room, she huffed remembering all the homework that still needed to be done—like that paper on the Civil War. She glanced at the microwave clock (12:38am) and considered if doing more homework was even worth it. She did have the next few days off and she was going at a good pace with the essay. She placed another few chewy treats between her teeth before sighing, righting her glasses and going over to the table. Once more she opened the laptop and got to work explaining Robert E Lee and Ulysses S Grant's roles in one of America's most iconic wars.

An hour later and Isis felt herself losing steam. She wasn't tired, used to staying up late due to her job, but her mind was roving for a more interesting topic. After saving her progress, she hops on the message boards for her American History class and clicks around, finding she is not alone in her struggles for this particular paper. But that only holds her interest for so long. She makes a full round on the internet: checking a Twitter account that was only active three times five years ago, to playing online poker — using Malik's login information — and winning him ten extra big ones.

Utterly bored and not ready to sleep, one thing leads to another and Isis finds herself filling out the login info for her '10-10-2-Do Me' website username. As a worker, overtime is available and it comes in either staying on the phone lines longer than usual, going through a thorough screening process to become a webcam model, or the 'work from home' chat interaction. Isis never uses it since she's not confident in her writing abilities to get whoever she's talking to _there_ , but her co-workers assured her that all you have to do is say a few flighty words and it does the trick.

She understands the pro is that you can easily emotionally disconnect since its text, but the downside is it takes longer to get people _relieved_. The first and only time Isis did try, it took over an hour before the customer left. But her calls usually took a fraction of that time and she found it unsettling. The extra boost to her check tried to keep her motivated to keep it going, but she told herself only when she needed that extra cash, she'd use the application again. This wasn't one of those times, but every college student knows any distraction for procrastination was welcomed.

Isis easily navigated the site, seeing a few known co-workers on that were notorious for overtime with the ' _Online'_ alert by their saucy screen names. She chose to keep herself ' _Unavailable_ / _Offline'_ from the hundreds of customers that were online, much like certain co-workers were doing themselves. Some were ' _In Live Chat_ ' or ' _Searching… New Chat_ ,' but even so there were plenty of customers being serviced. 'Illusion Entertainment' was a mega company as many knew by now, and because of that, had many offices across the US. They were huge on availability so the more people the better.

Her computer gave a sultry ' _Mmm'_ alerting her a familiar contact logged on: _Bewdy_With_A_Booty_2000 has logged on._ Isis double-clicked the screenname, pulling up a sultry black and red chat box. _'Salut.'_

 _Bewdy_With_A_Booty_2000 is typing… 'Tiens! How are you?'_

' _Pretty good—just trying to decide if I'm going to do some overtime.'_

' _I am quite surprised to see you on! What brings you on online to…sexy talk? Hehe.'_

Isis chuckled and began explaining her procrastination dilemma. Kisara Tremblay was close in age with Isis — with the woman one year her junior — and also one of the few friends she'd made in Las Vegas. Kisara was a French-Canadian that Isis met during her four weeks of training for the hotline. The two clicked, both in having run to Sin City to escape belly up relationships. While Isis' was on a romantic scale, Kisara's had been familial. It was hard being the Black Sheep of your family and not have anyone tell you they loved you regardless. So the tall pale currently baby blue haired woman fled Montreal, Canada to give America a try.

But Kisara found after a month of being on the phones, she wasn't cut out for it. She would often stumble over her words, throwing off the mood. With the guidance of her manager, she took a chance and applied for one of the web-cam girl positions. The moment the recruiter saw her milky white skin and big blue eyes, she was in. For the past year she'd been working from home; sitting in front of a webcam scantily clad — she was a lingerie _only_ model no matter how much her devoted followers begged for more — and also worked the instant messaging and chatroom circuit. With the conflicting schedules and both of them pursuing further education, they rarely got to see each other or talk.

 _Bewdy_With_A_Booty_2000 is typing… 'You'd rather be talking to horny people than do your Civil War paper? Wow, is American history that boring?'_

' _Yes and no. I'm just tired of working on things.'_

' _Ah. Well…'_ There was a brief pause. _'I'll be back—my loyal 'priest' is online.' Bewdy_With_A_Booty_2000 is currently unavailable._

Isis chuckled as she recalled the devout clergyman that had a thing for women with pale skin and sincere eyes. She shivered a little; she couldn't imagine being a web-cam girl. Obscenely spreading her thighs and flicking her tongue out at a computer sounded ridiculous. But Kisara had said the same about deep breathing on a phone—to each his own.

With her friend now busy, she pulled up the 'new members' list and scrolled through the hundreds of online names. The more seasoned chatters told newbies like her to always take from the new pool, since it was low stress for workers not yet exposed to the erotic chat life. As Isis scrolled past enough dirty screennames to make a pornstar blush, she spotted a particularly interesting name nestled between two sign-ins:

 _FuckMeAnyhwere69_

 _The_Chairman_

 _NoGagMaggie_Baby_

"The Chairman?" She mumbled to herself as she clicked on the link that redirected her to his personal page.

As expected, nothing was present for the bio but there was a picture for his icon: a black and white photo of what appeared to be an empty boardroom. The camera was placed at the very end of the table, so the shot was lined with rows of empty chairs. At the head of the table, a leather wingback had its back to the camera. What she assumed was a bit of dark well-kept hair was peaking over the top, but that was all that could be seen. One couldn't help but wonder if this was the actual chairman's boardroom. She chuckled—of course it couldn't be. After a quick Google image search, she found the photo he used. Though the one she found was in color, there was no mistaking that was the very stock image from his page.

At the return to the Chairman's page, she found little nothing regarding his identity and Isis found this a bit surprising. This man was being very discreet despite his level of clearance for the site. '10-10-2-Do-Me.c0m' had different levels of membership: Bronze had limited free content and interactions available, but offered daily specials for people willing to pay a little more for an extra peep.

Silver was a voluntary month to month payment system — meaning you manually had to go in every month and pay — to have almost all the full benefits of a Gold member. You could only watch an hour worth of content a day; were limited on characters and icons for chats; and you could only see so many HD photos a day.

Now a Gold member had either paid for the year or set up for automatic month to month deductions. With Gold, nothing was off limits. You had unlimited access to webcam models, photos; you could use the 'sexy' emoticons for your chats and you were always sent newsletters for new things that had not yet gone public. Even on your birthday—or the fake one you put in—you were sent a 'Birthday Bundle' that consisted of all your favorites from the site.

Usually those who paid for such status and access, were fearless and would properly present themselves on their personal page. But the longer Isis surveyed the page, the less there was to see. All she knew was that he was a male located in Japan. That was it. But even that little tidbit caught her interests. She never caught an accent during their phone conversations, but then again she'd be so caught up in suppressing her own twang, that if he did have one, it was easily missed. She pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. Who was this man? Why was this suddenly a mystery? Wait, who was the say this was even the _real_ Chairman? Why was she—' _Mmm,'_ her instant messenger popped a black and red box to the center of her screen:

 _The_Chairman would like to chat. Do you accept?_

Isis jumped back giving a less than flattering squawk as she quickly exited out of the browser. Bracing a hand to her chest, she felt her heart pounding against her palm. All doubts of it not being him were now lost. He caught her. The _real_ Chairman caught her snooping on his page—she felt her face burn bright red. How could she have been so careless? Gold members could view which customers _and_ workers had recently checked their page within a 30 day window, even if they appeared invisible. No doubt that when the Chairman logged on — of course he'd select the ' _Unavailable_ / _Offline'_ status, he's the Chairman — the moment he saw ' _TheBlackDahlia is viewing your profile_ ' he would have to investigate. She'd done the same. But rather than hide, he'd been bold and sent a message.

Why _did_ he message her? What could he possibly have to say? Maybe he felt violated since their arrangement circled around him getting a hold of her when needed. Not that Isis stuck out a hand for him to shake, but her lingering on his page could be viewed as online passive-aggression. Was he messaging her to accuse her of being obsessed? There were incidents where a sex worker could become just as obsessed with a regular, than the media favorite of the other way around. Even 'Illusion Entertainment' had a few 'isolated episodes' (as the lawyers claimed) of employees paying off HR workers for addresses and private phone numbers. But Isis wasn't this way. She was just a curious woman who now made herself look guilty as anything for suddenly logging off.

Pausing mid-crisis, rationale showed up from the back of her mind and reminded her: he was nothing more than a man who liked to call her for sex. Yes, Isis was a sex worker. A 'fake lady of the night' as a local prostitute and good friend of Malik playfully accused one particularly fun night at a club. She didn't need to overthink this because there was _nothing_ to overthink. The Chairman probably called, found she wasn't there, and moved on. Maybe he missed her and wanted some cybersex during her day off—who knew. Certainly not Isis and she was done with the topic. A shaky laugh left her lips before she pulled up a familiar document. Resting her glasses atop her nose, she agreed enough procrastinating for one evening had been done.

 **The Next Day**

Despite Isis going to bed way later than expected, she still woke up early enough that the scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and toast were time appropriate foods. Her glasses rested on the bridge of her nose as she simultaneously read over the extra pages she typed up last night; making sure there didn't sound as delusional as she felt they did in the wee hours of the morning. Glancing over at the turkey bacon, she quickly flipped the pieces before returning to her essay, correcting an incorrect footnote.

"How the hell do you get up so early?" Isis glanced up to find Malik in sweats and a 'Black Crown Ink' hoodie. His long golden dreads spilling into the hood of his top. "Like, are you superhuman?"

"I may be." She continued typing.

Malik waddled across the kitchen, sleep still making his bones lethargic, and began digging around the cabinets. "What time did you get to sleep?"

"3am or 4am—can't say I remember."

The small container holding cilantro banged against the counter as he put his fist down. "Isis."

"Hm?"

"Don't ' _hm'_ me! I told you about getting enough sleep."

"I feel fine."

"I don't care if you feel amazing, you need to get more sleep."

"Malik," she set her laptop aside, "you know I'm use to this type of lifestyle. I know you don't like it but sometimes my body remembers the conditioning and it makes the rules, not me."

Malik's head flopped back by the neck, some of the gold strands escaping the hoodie hood, a long whine leaving his throat. "I _knooow_ , I just… _UGH_ —I have _feelings_." He slammed the cabinet shut and took a seat at the kitchen island. "I don't want to have feelings, make them stop!"

"No." Isis grabbed two plates. With the speed and efficiency of a seasoned homemaker, she placed a larger serving of eggs, turkey bacon, and toast on a plate. "Eat up." She slid the warm breakfast to Malik who easily caught it.

After placing the last of the food on her plate, Isis set it beside Malik's place at the counter and went to the fridge. "What do you want to drink?"

"How about a tall glass of you sitting the fuck down?"

Isis shot a glare over her shoulder, "Orange juice it is."

"You don't sleep, now you won't sit down and eat; do you want your single bun booty to come back?"

Isis rolled her eyes and dug through bottles of alcohol. "Shut up Malik." Her hand absently ran down her lower back over the swell of her bottom.

"It's weird how much you look like _Umm_ with your glasses." Malik strolled over to the fridge and stole the orange juice from her hand. "Hey… Have you heard from her?"

Isis shook her head as she grabbed a two glasses. "You know she's not taking my calls." She set them down between the plates and grabbed her laptop, placing it at an angle to her left side.

"Give her some time," he mumbled as he topped off his glass and pushed hers closer to her, "she'll come back around." Malik swallowed a mouthful of eggs as he shook more cilantro on the yellow heap.

Isis found there was no point in eating and working on her essay. She closed the device and added a small portion of pepper to her eggs. "When's the last time you talked to her?"

" _Umm_?" Malik snorted. "My birthday."

"Before that?"

He snorted again. "My _last_ birthday? And the time before that—spoiler: the day I was born."

"I'm still not worthy of birthday well wishes."

"If it makes you feel any better," he grabbed a napkin from the holder on the counter, "she's still sending those bootleg e-cards that nearly crash my computer."

Isis sniggered around a glass of orange juice, "She's still doing that?"

He nodded. "I guess this was the only compromise she could find where she can still be passive aggressive but caring."

"So _Umm_ …of _Umm_."

"She's all technologically advanced and shit."

" _Ha_ , as if that day will ever come. Remember when she downloaded that virus that ruined every computer in the house?"

"Took a month for that tech guy to recover everything."

A bittersweet smile crossed her lips as she thoughtfully chewed on a piece of turkey bacon. "What about _Abi_?"

"According to _Umm_ he's still alive and healthy. In the personal message section of the e-cards, she always puts," he cleared his voice before speaking in a flawlessly high pitched Arabic, " _Walddak_ _jayidaan_." Isis gasped as orange juice went down the wrong pipe and left her in a spluttering giggling mess. She grabbed a napkin to dry her eyes and wipe at her mouth. Malik cackled next to her as she harshly slapped her back in mock help.

"Malik! You can't do that without warning me!" How her little brother so naturally imitated their mother was beyond her, but it never ceased to amaze or make her laugh.

His grin widened, "Remember that time I called your teacher so you could get out of school early and she totally believed I was _Umm_?"

Isis cleared her throat as he brother gathered up the now empty dishes. "Yes. Just so I'd take you into town. Ridiculous."

"Hey! I was not allowed to ride the bus alone and I needed that candy."

"It was the last thing you needed," she took another sip of her orange juice, listening as Malik's laughter slowly died down. "Do you ever miss home?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes? I mean, I miss Giza. Nothing beats eating Pizza Hut and staring at the pyramids."

Isis sighed knowingly. "Remember how wound up _Abi_ would get driving into Cairo?"

"Yes! What he doesn't want to accept is that I learned most of my bad language from him." He turned around, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed, a nostalgic look in his lilac eyes. "One day we need to go back and visit Isis."

She set her glass down with a firm thud, "Are you well?"

"Hardy-har-har."

"This is shocking coming from you."

"I'm serious. We need to go back and check on _Umm_ , _Abi_ , and extended family—"

"That might be a journey you take alone."

"So bringing a boyfriend _and_ a girlfriend is bad idea?"

Isis threw a balled up napkin at him before standing up to rinse her glass out; placing it on the top rack of the dishwasher. "One day, we'll go, but not yet." She leaned against the island, standing across from Malik. "Some people are still upset."

He nodded in great understanding, "How about just a trip then? Let's blow this red, white, and blue Popsicle stand."

"And where would we go?" She retrieved her laptop, taking her seat and flipping the device open. "Perhaps Miami to meet your ' _bae'_?"

"As tempting as that sounds, I was thinking more of a 'passport needed' type of journey." He came up behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Let's check out some places." After the two argued over which links to investigate, the twosome found a list: _The Top 10 Cities that Need More Love_.

"I haven't even heard of half of these."

"Me neither," Isis mumbled as she clicked through another photo of a city at night. "Springfield, US?"

Malik's eyebrow shot up, "Wait, that's an actual place?!"

"According to this it is and they have great donuts." She clicked to the next slide. "Whoville, Poland…Emerald City, Netherlands…Vice City, Brazil…Domino City, Japan…Midgar, South Africa…" The list went on naming real destinations that left them questioning the authenticity of the site. Trolls were still in after all.

After Houstatlantavegas, they both accepted they _may_ have just successfully been trolled. "Well, that was a bust." He reached his arms high over his head and gave a satisfying groan to such a wonderful stretch. "I'm taking this as Divine Intervention. It's in the stars that we need to keep our asses here for now. Total bummer."

"Well it's not too bad. We found about some great places—"

"We were _trololololled_ Isis." He flipped the screen the bird before announcing he was off to take a shower, leaving Isis alone.

Isis was going to return to her essay, but instead went back to the top 10 list. She was one of those people who tended to give almost every website a benefit of a doubt—Malik constantly reminded her she and _Umm_ were quite alike when it came to technology. But hey, what did Malik know anyway? This was punctuated by being startled by Britney Spears being blasted from Malik's room as she was sure either a dolphin was dying in the shower or Malik was ' _executing flawless falsetto_ ' as he often claimed he possessed. More like the kid _was_ possessed. She giggled a little.

After doing some lazy research on a few of the cities from the list, she found they were all indeed real and with all the buxom women Houstatlantavegas populated under the images, she was sure Malik would rethink staying state side for the trip. But Domino City is what really caught her eye. Apparently this was the international mecca for Duel Monsters, a kid aimed card game she and her brother actually played as children. Sure Malik tended to cheat and always wanted to play using the forbidden 'Shadow Realm Rules' that only experienced duelers weren't afraid of diving into, but they still had a lot of fun. It wasn't until Malik returned smelling of Old Spice with different clothes on that she realized just how deep she followed this Rabbit Hole.

"Working on your essay?" He looked at her screen to find the last thing he expected. " _Aaahhh_ snap-crackle-pop them fingers in Z formation!" He arrived just in time to see Isis whooping someone in a virtual game of Duel Monsters. "How long have you been playing?"

"Mmm, fifteen minutes?" She was furiously clicking, trying to find just the right strategy.

Malik was quick to pull up a chair and scoot in close, once more placing his chin on his sister's shoulder. " _Theeeee_ ," his eyes quickly scanned for the opponent's screenname, "' _TheRealDarkMagician_ ' is going DOOOWN!"

"As are my hearing capabilities—ow!" She ignored his snigger as the game continued on. A half hour later the two really thought Isis had this in the bag until the person turned the tables so badly in one move, Isis was left with zero Life Points and the screen bannered the ' _TheRealDarkMagician_ 's name in ribbon and fireworks declaring him the winner.

"Damn Isis, you let some kid beat you."

"We don't know if he was a kid," Isis rebutted trying to pick up the pieces of her pride. "Duel Monsters has no age limit."

"True—he could be a 35 year-old man living in his grandma's basement."

"Exactly."

"Or a 10 year-old kid abusing his internet privileges—the world may never know."

Isis' glare wasn't taken seriously until her hands followed her gaze's intentions. After successfully beating her brother up and he disappeared to the garage to work on his motorcycle, she was back on her essay upstairs in her room. Between paragraphs her mind kept floating back to Duel Monsters and the fond memories she had behind them. Spending summer days out back with Malik and their never ending supply of cousins, dueling for hours and throwing cross tween slang back in forth in order to hurt the opponent's feelings. When was the last time she dueled besides that morning?

It dawned on her it was the week before her marriage. Malik had found her crying in her room, make up smudged and dress wrinkled. He told her she wasn't allowed to look that ugly at her own engagement party. Rather than convince her to come back down, he left to tell the guests she was sick, before returning with ice-cream and their decks. The two played until the wee hours of the morning, much like the celebration. Isis had never felt as bittersweet as she did in that moment. However all of that was behind her now. She was once more Isis Ishtar and that's how things would stay. And right now Isis Ishtar — or rather _DuchessOfTheDuel_567_ — was feeling up to redeem herself. Once more her essay would have to wait.

* * *

 **PLEASE READ:**

HAAAAAAAPPY NEEEEEEEW YEEEEEEEAAAAAAARRRRR! May 2015 burn in Hell.

Guys I'm still alive and writing! Hahahaha. This chapter too forever since I got stuck in what I was trying to do to progress the story. Thank you all so much for your patience. As for typos and oopsies, feel free to point them out in reviews! This is currently hot off the press and burning my hands so bad, I had to upload it. Also because I'm tired of staring at it.

Arabic Words:

Umm – Mother

Abi – Father

Walddak jayidaan – Your father is well. (Sorry if this is wrong for you native/second language speakers. I was at the mercy of Google translate since I misplaced my Arabic vocabulary books. Let me know if it's wrong.)

French Words:

Salut – Hi

Tiens – Hello (informal)

 **Posted Especially For:**

CeruleanSwan26 – Thank you for letting me know the typos! Feel free to point out any in this chapter. And I love writing Isis and Malik's relationship. They're a fun pair.

Ruby of Raven – Glad you like me enough it put up with puns. As for how they'll meet, weeelll~, you'll just have to see…because I still haven't decided how they will. Hahaha.

Becks – Hot Mess!Kaiba is life, especially with his bitching. A few days ago I probably would have killed for some Chinese takeout I didn't have to pay for. And I so would jump ship at my current job to breathe heavily in the phone for those perks. Hope you enjoyed a better look into her side of things

CrimsonPheonixFire – I definitely jammed to that song while finishing this story and when she told me 'you betta work bitch' in that English accent, I almost set my keyboard on fire.

Neepers – You're a long time reader?! (Throws confetti all over my apartment and has a dance party) Thank you so much for the support! And I will not let any of you down—that phone call is uh-comin'~ (See what I did there?)

GKPOSHCHAP – Thank you so much for reading! PS, what is the meaning behind your screenname? It's so cool. Are you a posh chap? Are you Goku's posh chap? What is happening?!

A Thief A Pharaoh A Priest – Heeeey! I haven't seen yooouuu in a while! How are ya? Glad to see you're still peeping my fiction. Thanks for the review.

Moon – I should be apologizing to YOU for taking so long on the update that you felt your review as late. Hahaha. And I always felt like that mark on Dukey's face was a tattoo—a hawt tattoo. Hahaha.

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

 **REVIEW!**

 **Well I'm Out.**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 6

Dial Tone

* * *

Kaiba coolly flipped a coin across the knuckles of his left hand; his eyes locked in on the man across the green felt table. "Put up or shut up, _little_ _man_."

Yami's burgundy regard sparkled knowingly as he calmly tossed a stack of black coins into the center. His smirk grew when Kaiba matched his pile. "We'll see just how _little_ you leave with this night, Kaiba."

The brunet chuckled as he threw in another coin just for show, his eyes never blinking or leaving Yami's stare. "Don't count on it, _Atem_."

"Don't hurt yourself counting, _Seth_." Yami threw in three more coins, leaning forward with a cock of his head, "What do you have for me?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Are you two going to fuck already?"

Joey, who'd been in the middle of taking a sip from his mug, spluttered as the Jack Daniels went down the wrong pipe. "What the fuck Bakura?!" He pushed out between hacking coughs.

Bakura shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, his cards face down due to being no good in this round. "Don't get your bloomers in a knot Yankee. Incest isn't as taboo as you think. One time in—"

"Unless ya don't want to get kicked out of my house, stop there pal." Joey shivered at the leering look Bakura gave between Yami and Kaiba. The other pair noticed this; the tension of competition coming to a mutual break-up between them.

Yami laid down his 'four of a kind' and reached for his still burning cigar. "I don't know why we keep inviting you to poker night Bakura. Your inappropriate comments ruin the sportsmanship."

" _Sportsmanship_? What a load of cobblers."

"I swear I need a dictionary every time I see ya," Joey mumbled as he took another sip from his mug.

Kaiba casually placed his 'straight flush' on the table and basked in that slight twitch that Yami's right eye gave. "Hm." He slid the pile of chips to his side, pushing them into the table's specially designed pockets. "You need a dictionary in general Joey." Kaiba ignored the set of middle fingers thrust in his direction.

"Well done," Bakura sarcastically chided in Yami's direction. "I thought you were the 'King of Games?'"

"That's just what the gals called him back in the day," Joey chuckled before shutting up when Yami shot him a glare. "Well they did!"

"Some of us have a wife to keep happy and children to raise, rather than time to perfect a useless craft." The man expertly intermixed the playing cards, his eyes hard as stone. "Wouldn't you agree Kaiba?"

Kaiba scoffed as he leaned back in his chair, the leather whining, "Sounds like your inappropriate comments are ruining the sportsmanship of the game."

Joey gave an obnoxious snort that was cut off by that returning glare. "Sorry Yam'; even you gotta admit that was funny."

"I will do no such thing."

"Looks like Yami's still a sore loser." Kaiba had the nerve to fake pout too; he could almost see the steam coming out of his cousin's ears.

"Hmph," Yami's nose raising regally into the air as he speedily dealt the cards to the players.

"If anyone's sore, it's Mana." Bakura grabbed his cards from the table, shuffling through them, "bet her fanny is bruised black and blue."

Joey narrowed his eyes in contemplation before uttering a hesitant: "…Her _butt_?"

"Her pussy you bloody Yank." Bakura rolled his eyes, completely ignoring Yami staring at him unblinking. "I mean we've all seen the size of Yugi's head. Kid just left the gate open for his brothers and sisters." Kaiba hid his grin behind his glass of water.

Joey eyed the cigar sitting in Yami's hand and slowly reached forward, moving his friend's arm back, which was deliberately creeping towards Bakura's forearm. "Ya can't burn a demon Yam'."

"I could surely try," Yami hissed as he took a long puff from the cigar before placing it back in the holder, blowing perfect smoke rings towards the table. "I'd appreciate you not talking about my wife's heavenly realm."

"' _Heavenly_ _realm'_?" Bakura mocked as he looked at his hand, reaching for the deck, "A fanny is the bowels of Hell waiting to trap a lad."

"I agree with Yam' on this one. Nothin' beats just slidin' ya way in—I always hear angels singin'."

"That's your soul being sucked from your willy, fed to Satan, and the Good Lord rapturing what's rest." Bakura even had the nerve to make a 'sign of the cross' athwart his chest.

"I thought you weren't religious," Yami mumbled as he shuffled through his cards, tossing a few coins out to the pot.

Bakura threw a few coins as well, "I'm like the world: religious when it's convenient."

Joey chuckled as he took another sip from his mug, "Like everyone at this table."

Yami loudly cleared his throat, "Speak for yourselves."

"Get the hell outta here Yam' and I fold." The blonde flipped his cards over and grabbed a bag of chips by his chair, "Ya lyin' right now."

"I am not," Yami continued as he double checked his cards.

"When's the last time you gave a proper salute?"

Kaiba rolled his eyes, "It's called _Salat_."

"Well obviously I'm not fake Muslim—I'm fake Catholic." Bakura looked at his hand again and threw in another coin.

Yami's mouth was fixed for a proper retort when they heard the door that led down to the basement swing open. The fast clicks of heels and cursing due to the steepness of the steps was heard, before a woman rounded the corner. Nude strappy four inch heels elevated the long sun-kissed legs; the torso encased in a tight, white romper. Long red stiletto nails ran through perfectly tousled platinum blonde hair, while red lips quirked at their corners; the black lined eyes and brushed lashes fluttering in mock interest.

" _Chicos_." It didn't matter how many times the table of men laid eyes on the always barely-clothed spicy blonde, they all had the same reoccurring thoughts within their own minds.

Bakura's eyes were raking up and down her body, not being subtle at all since the man couldn't even fathom a toned down moment ever in his life. Even at the birth of his son he got kicked out of the hospital for well, _reasons_ as he liked to put them. "The Harpy arrives." He continued his staring trying his _damndest_ to figure out what was natural and what was gifted by a surgeon.

Mai rolled her eyes as she shifted her stance, her pedant necklace naturally nestling itself in her impressive cleavage. "This is _todo_ _natural_ but feel free to look, it is impressive," she spoke in slightly accented English.

Yami agreed with such a statement; despite his long marriage, he still was a man who admired beautifully well-crafted women (and a few men). Though he did wish Mai's wardrobe choices made it easier for him to keep eye-contact. He made a mental note to go down on Mana particularly passionate that evening, to make up for the guilt of having glanced at the long legs the woman sported. "How are you Mai?" With his eyes firmly squared on the contoured nose of his best-friend's girlfriend, he wondered if now was a good time to encourage her to take Mana shopping.

" _Excelente_. How's the wife and children?"

Yami gave a close lipped smile of cordiality, "Both very well."

" _Muy_ _bien_." A perfectly manicured hand found its way in Joey's blonde mop and like the golden retriever Kaiba would never forget to remind him he was, a big goofy grin flopped on his face and he nuzzled into the touch. "I'm not here to spoil the fun, just check in. I need to make a run to the department stores and put Mima a beauty care package together."

Joey involuntarily shivered earning a slap on the shoulder from his girlfriend. "Sorry…" He mumbled as he took a sip from the mug of whiskey. Mai only spoke Spanish after she got off the phone with a family member, was in a high emotional state, or when they went back to her home in Miami. He was hoping she spoke with her mom and not her _grabby_ grandma. He shivered again much to Bakura's interest.

"Mima," Bakura purred knowing there was a rough story behind Mai's grandma but not too sure what it was. "Was she the overly plastic woman with the fake breasts, lifted everything and a Brazilian booty lift gone bad?"

Mai picked up a chip and expertly flipped it one handed square into Bakura's forehead. "Watch your mouth — her breasts are real."

"Unlike yours," Bakura retorted, glaring a hole through Yami's simpering face.

"Joe, are my breasts real?"

That big goofy grin was back, " _So_ _fuckin'_ real babe."

"At this rate you'll have to change the felt on the table thanks to your drool," came Kaiba's monotone drawl, reminding everyone he was sitting there. (Bakura had easily forgotten) Kaiba focused his eyes on the perfectly arched brows of Mai's face, still not understanding how Joey got a woman this sexy.

Mai smirked, crossing her arms much to Yami's despair, his eyes averting away from the heaving bosom; and Bakura's interest, hoping a nipple would peek out showing an obvious scar. "It speaks."

"Mai." Kaiba wasn't glaring but he also wasn't giving the same warm eyes as Yami or the notorious Bakura leer. He settled in a flat-lined type of stare that he knew made him look bored and no less handsome.

"Kaiba." Mai chuckled then, an unspoken joke between them that Joey was always trying to figure out, that Bakura and Yami knew too well. "Still keeping the company of one?"

"Hm." He wasn't taking that bait.

Ever since he agreed to that blind-date almost two years ago with Mai's friend (he was sure her name was Vivian… _maybe_ ), fucked her, and never called again, Mai had been drawing her claws every time he came around. And Mai never drew her claws for show; he'd stood awkwardly a few times with Yami and Bakura while she tore into Joey in fast stinging Spanish. It was like being a kid again: embarrassed for your friend, glad it's not you being scolded, wondering when you can go home, etc. Whether any of them would admit it, (which they probably wouldn't) Mai Valentine was scary as fuck. She was already physically intimidating, but her words made her ten times scarier. Even Bakura's off-handed jabs were kept to a minimum when she was around. But despite that, it didn't stop any of them for making fun of Joey when he cowered to her mood changes.

"I'll take that as a yes Kaiba." She ran her hand through Joey's hair just one more time before affectionately tapping her fingers against his cheek, " _Vuelvo en unos pocos. Llámame si me necesitas, mi amante_."

" _Si mi cariño_." Joey's thick accent draped the Spanish in great enough efforts that as Mai's heels finally clicked up to the door, he was still blushing beneath the perfect lipstick mark on his right cheek.

Bakura snorted the moment they heard the door click shut. He shuffled his cards, "So you're trying to learn Spanish?"

"Her mom told me it was the wisest thing to do. That way I know when her dad's side of the family is talking bad about me."

Mai's mother, once Elva Grahn, a fifth generation Scandinavian who grew up in Nowheresville Minnesota, had dreams of moving to a big city and somewhere warm. Though her parents were wary of her leaving the nest so soon, Elva was one of eleven, so it was hard to stop her once she turned eighteen and started packing up an old trunk with all of her things. Elva found herself in Orlando, Florida working at Disney World as Cinderella, thanks to her big blue eyes and long blonde hair. A few years into her gig, a tall olive skinned man with wavy black hair and violet eyes, asked her to take a picture with his niece, then to take a picture with him, followed by writing her phone number on the back of a business card he had on him.

Rafael Valentine, a suave Latin man with a penchant for all white ensembles and a genius in real estate, started courting the princess. They bonded over their similar backgrounds of big families (Rafael being one of seven), family businesses, non-English speaking extended family, and, well, _family_. Both were extremely family oriented and never thought they'd find someone whose familial devotion ran as deeply as theirs did. So after Elva surprised Rafael's great-grandmother with her slow-but-accurately spoken Spanish, and Rafael milked goats with Elva's father that one Christmas, the two felt it was prime time for marriage.

Two years into their marriage they simultaneously overjoyed and shocked the families by the arrival of their first and _only_ child, Mai. No one expected this since the two came from such big families, but they both just liked having one child. It worked for them and Mai didn't go without. Despite the lack of siblings, there were always cousins fluttering about. The school year meant skipping class to go to the beach with them; buying overly priced white pants; and trying to sneak onto yacht parties as teens. While her summers on the Grahn farm was spent giggling over curse words in Norwegian; getting chased by the senile cow Freya; and trying disgusting but at times delicious fish concoctions her cousins came up with. Her childhood made the outside package that was Mai Valentine expensive, dangerous and untouchable, but on the inside she was as down to earth as could be.

"Well expect quite a few ill words spoken your direction," Yami's bitterness being washed down by a sip of his brandy. "Mana's extended family thought I was disconnected with my roots and use to say terrible things about me in Arabic."

"They still do," Kaiba added off handedly, suddenly interested in the snack table Joey not only set up but ate 75% of the items himself. "They hate your guts."

"Dicked down their princess so good, got her to marry you without a single thought." Bakura chuckled as he reached back for the snack table, shoving a hand in the popcorn bowl Kaiba immediately lost interest in. Who knows where those hands have been?

"Well at this point they need to get over it. We're in for the long haul as Joey often says."

"'Cause ya are and should be Yam'," Joey believed in a slightly distracted tone. He then cleared his throat and looked around the room, his eyes focusing back on the faces around the table. "You…you guys are my best-friends and—"

"Bloody hell we're not looking at your nut-sack again," Bakura groused, "I still have nightmares about those golden pubes of yours."

"Fuck you Bakura, that was one time and I was drunk!" Joey hissed, his face flaming red, "Those girls you brought to the hotel were unclean as shit."

"Yet you fucked them." Bakura smirked at the angry line Joey's mouth made. "But I guess I can tell you all now: they were indeed prostitutes."

" _We_ _know_ ," echoed between Yami and Kaiba while Joey appeared utterly betrayed.

"Don't worry about it—it didn't cock up your health like some of the other mates."

Joey squeezed his lids tight, fleshy creases triangulating the sides of his eyes, "Enough about that bullshit! Now," he unclenched his eyes and started rummaging through his hoodie, "I plan to do something stupid."

"Open a second gym?" Kaiba's smirk reached his eyes at the utterly annoyed look Joey gave him.

"No you ass-wipe," he pulled a black velvet box from somewhere on his body and slapped it on the table, "I'm gonna propose to Mai."

 _Silence_.

Yami's eyes had grown twice their size, looking more rounded than feline, his mouth slightly agape. He dumbly looked between the box and Joey, before repeating the action several more times; the cards falling to the table due to limp hands.

Bakura on the other hand, looked like they'd just completed a successful séance and his bitter old hag of a great-aunt, made a promise to haunt every flat he'd ever own. His forehead beaded up with sweat and a card slipped from his slimy fingers.

Kaiba was ramrod straight and unmovable. His cards would not end up like their brethren; they were clasped tightly in his hand. So much so that he bent his three of hearts and two of clubs, all while he made sure not to breathe too loudly or blink.

" _Well_?" Joey looked like he either wanted to run from the room or start crying. Or both. Most likely both.

Everyone jumped, Bakura even yelping, when Yami slammed his hands down on the table and with a booming voice made a noise of congratulations, before tackling Joey to the ground in a very strong 'bro-tussle-hug.' "You little _bastard_! How could you keep this from me?!"

Joey's voice was caught between gasping laughter, "Not very easily but I'm glad I did!"

Bakura was still having his panic attack and all Kaiba needed was a pigeon to land on his head to become the perfect statue.

Once the two were done having their moment as only childhood best-friends could, they returned to their seats. Yami quickly grabbed the velvet box still on the table and opened it. "Oh my _goodness_ Joseph," he cooed in an utterly hopeless romantic way, "It's _perfect_."

"Are you fucking marrying him or Mai? _Shite_ ," Bakura grimaced as he grabbed a napkin to dab the sweat off his forehead and neck.

"Why the hell are ya sweatin'?" Joey questioned in a less than concerned tone. All he wanted was validation from Yami on his decision. The other two were bonus points if they even cared.

"I'm bloody allergic to commitment you tosser!" Bakura jumped up from the table to get a bottle of water he proceeded to dump all over himself. "Fuckety-fuck-fuck! I'm going to burst into hives any second now!"

Yami was still cooing at the ring, when Joey turned his attention to the ever still Kaiba. "Well, what do ya think Money-Bags? Is the diamond big enough for ya tastes?"

"…" Kaiba didn't say a word. Rather he continued with his statue reincarnation. While commitment made the now stripping Bakura who was taking shots, freak out to the high heavens, Kaiba was taking things differently. With Yami married, Joey soon to be engaged, Mokuba trying to marry his girlfriend, and no one having any type of romantic expectations for Bakura, the expectancy of him settling down would go from 100 to one million.

"Come on MB! Ya gotta say somethin'!"

Kaiba's mouth unhinged and honesty flowed from his heart: "This is _utter_ bullshit."

 **…**

After Yami stopped ogling the ring and Kaiba gained some level of movement, they found out Bakura actually didn't lie about the whole hives thing. The man's porcelain skin was on full splotchy angry red display, as he sat in his designer briefs in Joey's Boston Red Sox bean-bag, which the blonde had thrown a towel over, making sure his precious chair wouldn't be ruined.

"Why did you have aloe vera in your car?" Joey was still trying to understand Yami having not a small bottle but a large one, just hanging out in his glove compartment. He shifted in his New York Yankees bean-bag chair, pulling his legs up to sit Indian style.

Yami shrugged from his Chicago Cubs bean-bag, "When you have children, you find yourself carrying a lot of unexpected items." He leaned back, the bag whining as he took a sip from the imported beer Joey kept.

"Did you really have to rub him down?" Kaiba had been doomed to sit across from Bakura — in the Miami Marlins bag at that — and Bakura would not close his legs. He even had the _nerve_ to adjust his testicles for optimum sitting comfort. "Fuck, stop."

Bakura gave him a toothy grin, "Is my impressive body riling you up?"

"The same body that can never find the sun?" Yami chuckled at the daggers Bakura shot him.

"Don't be mad because I never took you out on a date and just—"

"We made a pact to never revisit what happened that trip to Cabo," Joey quickly cut in much to Kaiba's relief. They were both still scarred after coming back from the bar, a bit drunk, to find Bakura and Yami in a _compromising_ position.

Yami rolled his eyes, "That was so long ago and I don't even see why it's still a big deal. Sexuality—"

"So about your engagement," Kaiba rather talk about the catalyst into his life going from bad to hell, than have another ' _progressive thinking_ ' chat with Yami, "when are you asking?"

Joey's smile reached ear-to-ear since Kaiba was suddenly taking an interest. "That, is a good ass question my friend," he chuckled nervously, "I have _no_ idea."

Bakura groaned. "You have the ring but no plan? _Typical_ Wheeler."

"Yes indeed. This is why I need ideas from my best buds, so, shoot."

"Fuck her in the ass and just before you come lean down and whisper: 'Just like I fill up all of your holes, you've filled the one in my heart. Marry me.'" Bakura swatted at the debris that suddenly flew his way. "What? That's fucking gold."

"That's fucking _vile_ ," Yami hissed as he regretted sharing his aloe vera, "Mai deserves better."

"So what's better?" Bakura challenged.

Yami set his beer down and spread his fingers apart as he raised his arms, "Get a thousand of her favorite type of flowers," his eyes going from focused to dream, "arrange them all over a rooftop bistro you booked for the night; have a five string orchestra playing you all's song and—"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoooaaa_ there Yam'," Joey chuckled as he retrieved his mug from the side of his chair, "that's a bit over the top."

Yami cocked his head to the side, "You think so?"

"We _know_ so," Bakura grunted, rubbing in some spare aloe vera that was clumped on his arm, "Mai would think the lad's off his trolley if he did some exaggerated shit like that."

"This happens to be true," Joey agreed.

"It's not like you have to do all I named; there were some great ideas—"

"So you say," Bakura interrupted.

"What about you Kaiba?"

Kaiba was trying his hardest to blend in with the circle the best to his ability, but he should have known that wouldn't last long. An excited puppy like Joey would eventually symbolically hop in his lap and ask for pets. Besides, it was his fault they were even talking about this. "What about me?"

Joey shrugged trying to come off cool rather than brimming with nerves, "Any proposal ideas?"

The brunet snorted, "Why would I know any?"

"Exactly," Yami quickly agreed earning a glare from his cousin.

Bakura chuckled as he shifted in his chair, adjusting the part of the towel under his thighs. "What could he possibly know about romance?"

"I know this is hard to believe since _you've_ been married since you were born, and no human on this planet willingly _wants_ to be tied to you forever, but being single doesn't make you romantically incompetent." Kaiba's eyes clicked back-and-forth between Yami and Bakura's expecting expressions.

If he was going to talk-the-talk, he needed to walk-the-walk. He coolly leaned back in his chair, his boardroom charisma encasing him in a professional cool. "Mai is one of those women who plays hard to get, but loves being swept off her feet. She's also a sentimental sap like you. Recreate the night you two first met, detail for detail, then propose. She'll be overwhelmed that you even remembered what she had on, and this isn't something too huge for even you to accomplish, or fuck up."

Joey's thinking face wrinkled his features in concentration before his eyes got big. "That…that…that _works_. It'll show Mai how much I care and pay attention to her, which she's always naggin' me about anyway, and it's something I can easily do." Joey's eyes disappeared and all of his teeth are on display: the puppy grin of utter happiness. "You're a genius MB."

"One for you, and one for you." Kaiba casually extended his middle fingers to Yami and then Bakura. Yami growled behind his beer while Bakura lewdly grabbed his crotch and thrust towards the brunet.

"Now, since you guys are my best-friends and I can't imagine anyone else by my side, I want ya all to be groomsmen."

"But I'm best-man, _right_?" Yami piped up earning a groan from Bakura and eye-roll from Kaiba.

Joey's beaming smile was unwavering, "Who else would I ask? But I do want Bakura to plan my bachelor party trip."

" _Trip_?" Bakura's once glazing over eyes were illuminated with interest. "You want to take a trip for your bachelor party?"

Joey nodded enthusiastically, "It'll be easier for my state side friends to participate this way…" Shyly he bowed his head, smiling, "I mean, we can work on that later if there is a later…" Slowly he looked up at his friends showing a level of vulnerability he kept for those closest to him, "First the lucky lady has to say yes, ya know?"

Yami gave his friend a fond smile, "Mai will surely accept Joey. She loves you very much."

"What woman leaves her country for some guy she's just having a fling with?" Kaiba added off-handedly. "Must be serious on her end."

"Besides, I saw those bullocks you got there Joey. Those are the bullocks of a real man that I'm sure she finds you to be."

Joey blushed at all of the compliments — the Jack Daniels pumping through his system assisting — before mumbling: "Thanks guys, means a lot."

 **Later That Evening**

Kaiba killed the driving lights on his Audi and stared at the still illuminated dash of the luxury vehicle. Stroking his chin, he finally turned the key back and exited the vehicle. His walk through the parking garage of his home's building was a swift stride; he needed to get into his apartment as quickly as possible without looking like he was in a hurry. But all of that was lost when the lift stopped on his floor. He damn near ran down the hall, unlocked the door and threw himself into his living room, his front door naturally swinging and clicking itself closed followed by the clank of the lock.

He growled into the overly priced throw pillows Mana got him for his couch. Their high thread count and imported stuffing seemed to mock him as they bunched under his face, perfectly cradling his anguish in luxury. What a monologue to his life. He sat up, almost throwing a pillow but thinking against it. Rather he pulled it to his chest and glared at his flat screen, and random modern trinkets arranged on his entertainment center. It was to make his penthouse look more 'lived in' as the interior designer put it, but they both knew he needed way more than some pieces of modern art to do that. Dammit, now his modern pieces were mocking him.

This wasn't fair. Why would Joey do this to him? He knew how dramatic and inconsequential he sounded, but he didn't care. He was now alone and could show exactly how displeased he was with the turn of events. This was _utter_ bullshit. Not only would he have to sit through another groom being on the tail end of his wedding plans — this actually was an upgrade to the groomzilla Yami had been — but he also had to wear a shitty tux and try not to glare at the back of said groom's head for the duration of the ceremony. _Fucking_ traitor. He finally threw the pillow and was satisfied when it landed against one of his arm chairs.

"Get a grip Seto," Kaiba scolded himself as he made a beeline for his bar.

Since he drove himself to Joey's monthly poker night, he'd passed on alcohol the whole evening. He was long overdue for a drink. After a shot of the expensive soju Bakura gifted them with after his day trip to Korea, he poured himself a glass of pure white cognac and placed it on the coffee table. He disappeared to his room before returning to his couch in his Armani boxer briefs, laptop in hand, flipping on the TV.

He took a sip from the clear liquid, filling his crystal tumbler, and nearly spit it out as the image of a couple swapping nuptials, came on the flat screen in crisp HD. It was just a commercial for life insurance but Kaiba still felt mocked by this channel (he checked) 56. Was everyone out to get him? Knocking back the drink, and settling the TV on a poker tournament live streaming from America, his head lulled against the back of the couch.

His mind was settling down now; the emotional rampage of being allegedly betrayed now smoothing into a small flicker of disloyalty. Most of it stemmed from Kaiba's arrogance from not being able to pick up any static on Joey contemplating this huge decision. The blonde was terrible at keeping secrets like these, better yet not give any vibes that something was gnawing at him. He wasn't known for his prudence, but rash behavior and ill-thought out plans, but this hadn't been one of those times. Joey's confession was not only sincere, but the ring showed great care and introspection.

Kaiba could still see the slim silver band laden with small diamonds all leading up to the 3 carat oval cut aquamarine diamond. Kaiba was a romantic when it was convenient and he'd been blown away by how expertly Joey had chosen the ring without their help. It was the perfect blend of Mai's flashy nature, but also the down to earth woman Joey knew better than almost anyone. It also showed Joey coming halfway with his nontraditional view on long term relationships by even getting the ring, but not a typical diamond. Instead he chose the very stone that embodied the waters he and Mai shared on those Miami shores.

"I fucking hate that kid…" Kaiba grumbled as he glared at one of the poker players with dice for earrings, wearing makeup like a fifteen year old girl. He placed all of his annoyance on this… Finally the banner for this 'Duke Devlin's name appeared beside him as he shuffled through his cards. Opening his laptop, he pulled up a few applications he needed to review the coding for as he rooted for this Duke kid to lose. But the world was still against him because after the kid won his fifth round, Kaiba flipped away from the channel, cursing eyeliner and mascara companies everywhere.

Settling on a business debate between two stiff suits, he continued correcting the half ass work the engineers did. Did they really think they'd get smooth rendering using this outdated method? He closed the application to make a note for himself to hold a meeting about this. After sending the email to his secretary, he shuffled through his inbox and spotted an interesting automated email nestled between two as equally unimportant pieces of mail: 'Wanna Get Sexy, Sexy?' He double clicked and saw all the perks he could get in on since he was a '10-10-2-Do-M3.c0m' Gold member. Kaiba really wasn't interested in enhancing his services but he still found himself on the website piddling around in invisible mode. A loud moan had his eyes shooting over to his 'Fuck-Friends List': _TheBlackDhalia has logged on._

Suddenly the cognac hit Kaiba square in his nucleus accumbens – also famously called 'pleasure center' of the brain. But this night, he would prefer its other title: the 'hedonic hotspot.'

* * *

PLEASE READ:

UPDATE TIIIME~! I know, I know, it's about damn time. I've been a busy, busy bee at work and thanks to the holiday weekend and my vacation time kicking in, I am currently writing this from my coach train seat, as I return from quite the fun weekend. My vacay~ gave me the perfect reboot to get the creative juices flowing. Sorry this chapter isn't longer; the direction it started heading into would have had it ending awkwardly. So I saw it best to end things here and give you the smut in the following chapter. I know, I know, I suck. Please bear with meee~.

Spanish:

Chicos – Boys

Todo natural – All natural

Excelente – Excellent

Muy bien – Very good

Vuelvo en unos pocos. Llámame si me necesitas, mi amante – I'll be back in a few. Call me if you need me, my lover.

Si mi cariño – Yes my dear

Posted Especially For:

Becks – Oh no! I hope your job has gotten better or you've found something better. Hopefully this update helped out as well.

Jcjonesacp – Hmmmm, I'm not really into betting since I usually lose. But I have a feeling I may just win this one. (Winky-Wink)

Guest – If the last chapter put you to sleep, I hope this one woke you up!

Neepers – I LOVE your puns. They're amazing. Hey, hey…hey, single bun booties are no laughing matters. It's a serious and very unattractive condition. And thank you so much for the support! It's people like you that make me feel good about my shitty fanfiction. Hahaha.

TFKFan118 – Thanks for the fav-add or even entertaining the idea of it!

CeruleanSwan26 – Procrastination really is the devil. Hahaha. I don't know why but I always love the idea of a Kisara cameo. She's just cameo worthy. And I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Ruby of Raven – Hmmmm, was it Yami? I'm not too sure. (Winky-wink) And I love that you've seen the many directions I've set up. How will they meet? Spoiler(?): the next chapter MAY be from a certain Egyptian's woman POV.

Botanbutton: Thank you so much for reading and I'm glad you like it. I adore your profile picture. I've always loved Botan – YYH in general. Thanks for the review.

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!

Well I'm Out.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 7

Contact List

Isis had just declined a private chat invitation from a ' _BigDaddy's69BigCock'_ for only _good_ reasons as she skimmed through the available pool. For once she wasn't online out of boredom or to avoid a certain essay — not only had she finished it, but achieved a solid B — but for work. Malik seemed serious about them being busy bees this summer and had successfully talked her out of doing summer school. So once fall rolled in, she'd take a larger school load; she already had the money saved, but she didn't want to dig into that fund for summer fun. So doing some extra work seemed like the best idea.

So far she'd only been online for an hour and talked to three people. The first was a man who needed explicit details of her feet. After she mentioned the toe ring she _considered_ wearing for the summer, he alerted her he'd reached his peak and thanked her. The second wanted her to tell him her grocery list. Twenty minutes later he'd logged off with no goodbye—she assumed he got what he needed, as well as a recipe for chicken pesto. The last was a woman with five kids who just needed someone to talk to. Oddly enough, they had a great conversation before roleplaying a lesbian fantasy the woman had. After the chat, Isis encouraged her to contact her again. Online use to be a scary idea, but she really felt like she was getting the hang of things.

But that confidence died when that tell-tale ' _Mmm'_ alerted her someone was online: _The_Chairman has logged on._ Isis' first thought was to log-off and run for the hills, but her instincts took a back seat, when that black and red box _immediately_ blipped up to the center of her screen: _The_Chairman would like to chat. Do you accept?_

A thousand questions scrolled through her mind as a shaky hand grasped the wireless mouse and hovered the black pointer over a green box. Her index finger twitched and the box expanded.

 _The_Chairman is typing… 'What are you doing online?'_

Isis' nerves tripled at such a casual greeting. After their last online encounter that didn't even make it this far, she was more than confident this was indeed _the_ Chairman. It just had to be. With jittery hands she quipped: ' _Working_.'

' _Cute_.'

Cute? Isis' face exploded in red, ' _I can be cute…_ '

' _How cute_?'

Wait, was he coming on to her? Isis took this moment to pop herself in the forehead and mumble a strong ' _get a grip_ ' before wiping her sweaty hands on her pajama bottoms. _Of_ _course_ the guy was coming on to her! She was legal sex worker after all. How the Chairman was able to turn her well-structured thoughts into a low budget circus was not only embarrassing but utterly ridiculous. He was just like anyone else who called or message her – a customer looking to get off.

' _How cute do you want me_?'

' _Hmm…on a scale of Domo-kun and my cousin, where do you fall_?'

OK, Isis was lost now and what was a 'Domo-kun?' ' _Cousin_?' She questioned as she pulled up the primary colored search engine domain.

' _Yes, my cousin_.'

' _I uh…don't know what your cousin looks like._ ' But she now knew who this oddly charming brown furred character, with a large mouth was! She was preparing to ask how the Chairman felt about Domo-kun when she was once more thrown off guard.

' _Have you ever seen the product of a rat and hairless cat mating_?'

OK, maybe this was _not_ the Chairman, but some weird man into bestiality and incest. ' _No, like most people_.' She knew her response came off a bit rude but this imposter was upsetting her. Not with the odd topic, but the fact that his words were proving him not to be the Chairman.

' _Well that's how he was born…_ '

' _Interesting_.'

' _Sorry…I'm drunk_.'

A sigh of relief _actually_ left Isis' lips before she could even catch it. Of course the Chairman was just drunk; she always imagined the man with a glass of scotch as he undid his necktie, the day's long hours and hefty payoffs bleeding from his shoulders, as he took a sip of the brown liquor. ' _Why are you drunk_?' Despite her fantasy sequence of a well-dressed man needing a moment, she still couldn't help but ask.

 _The_Chairman is typing…_ Isis took this opportunity to pick at her nails and stare at those red ellipses. What was he going to say? She didn't have to wait long for a response which didn't surprise her; the Chairman came off as a fast typist. ' _My inner circle has betrayed me_.'

Isis had the nerve to _actually_ gasp. Perhaps someone had been caught embezzling money? Cooking the books? That's usually how it went in the crime dramas she'd occasionally watch when she should be doing homework. ' _Betrayal? How so…?_ ' Then she added as an afterthought, ' _Only if you wish to tell me_.'

' _I don't mind you know…I guess…whatever_.' There was a pause before the Chairman started back up, ' _Someone I know, who I hate, but I'm cool with, but not really, is getting married…well, he's going to propose and I'm pretty sure his girlfriend will say yes…_ '

' _Um…are you not happy for him_?' This was… _strange_. Never once had she painted the Chairman as someone who would care about the romantic affairs of others; especially someone who was in his inner circle but a frenemy. And such a _complex_ frenemy at that. Perhaps her wanted the woman for himself? Isis tapped her chin in contemplation, wondering how the woman looked and acted.

 _The_Chairman is typing… 'It's not that I'm not…I just hate him…'_ She found his petulance oddly charming.

' _Do you hate him because he has something you want?_ '

 _The_Chairman is typing…_

This time those red dots blinked for much longer than Isis wanted. There were even pauses where his fingers were no longer filling the box. Had she said something wrong? Maybe she was out of line – pried a little too deep into his personal life. Her job was to make him come, not _come_ _clean_ about his personal feelings on his just as personal private life. She was preparing an apology when the ellipses finally took a break.

' _Hm…never thought of that_.'

' _Thought of what_?'

' _Jealously_.'

' _Are you a jealous man_?'

' _I can be…_ '

Now she wasn't sure if they were still trying to have this awkward heart-to-heart or if he'd busted out the lotion and tissues on his end. As much as she wanted to know about how exactly he felt, she knew that was none of her business, and that it was best to keep this strictly business. ' _I can be jealous myself…_ '

'… _I didn't take you as the jealous type…_ '

' _I never show it or act on it, but I feel it_.'

' _When's the last time you felt it_?'

' _At our last meeting…when that new secretary was checking you out…_ '

 _The_Chairman is typing…_

Isis took this opportunity to distract herself by going to her kitchenette and grabbing the remainder of the gummy bears she swiped from downstairs. The 'bun booty' was still haunting her, almost as much as what the Chairman's response was going to be. She didn't feel the smoothest with sexual segues but she did her best. Maybe it would be enough to take his mind off things? But when she returned to the computer, she saw that it had indeed backfired – her face flamed red.

' _I'm not really one to jack off to text conversations…why don't you turn on your webcam_ …'

Isis' mouth went dry. Beyond dry. _Nevada_ dry. She rushed back to the kitchen for water and returned to find more words.

' _Maybe I'll turn mine on too…_ '

 _Holy_ _shit_. Isis rarely cursed verbally or in her head but this was one of those times—she'd repent later for it. The Chairman wanted to turn his webcam on and show himself to _her_? Plenty of customers revealed themselves to their favorite chat girls and boys, but Isis was still so green to this cybersex land, and besides, she didn't know if she felt confident about it. But this may be her one shot to see the Chairman, to actually know the face (or at least dick) behind the voice. She was a bit disappointed in herself at not having a problem with seeing his dick either. She once again did a ' _get a grip_ ' face-palm.

' _Is this a yes or no Dahlia_?'

She realized she was still standing next to her computer and quickly sat down, fingers shaking as they hovered over the keyboard. Rather than give an awkward response, since those were the only ones she could think of, Isis settled for something more practical: picking the only business transaction related truth item, from her mental bullet points labeled ' _Why This Is A Bad Idea_ '. ' _I'm not a registered camgirl so I can't do much…_ ' This was true. Only workers approved for webcam work could properly charge a customer. Otherwise the company made one hundred percent of the earnings, and the worker stripped for free.

 _The_Chairman is typing… 'That's fine. How about this: the next time I'm online, make sure you can use that camera of yours. ;) '_

A winky face? Isis gulped and dumbly nodded before replying in all of her Dahlia charisma, ' _Pity you have to go. I hope to see you ;) very soon_.'

' _Can't wait_.' _The_Chairman has logged off._

The chat blipped inactive and Isis' inner struggle began. Naturally she would be online so of course she would be running into him again, but did she really want him to see how she looked? She had zero intentions of showing her face, which meant her body was off limits too? A handful of gummy bears found its way into her mouth as she chewed thoughtfully. Getting up, she strolled over the large mirror propped against her wall.

She clicked on the lamp nearby and allowed the warm glow to reveal a body she once neglected. The first thing she looked at was of course her butt. Luckily it looked healthy; as did her thighs and hips. She'd always found confidence in her hourglass figure; her waist gifted from her mother. But due to her last less than great situation, a lot of her body and self-esteem had suffered. A wave of anxiety washed over her and she hurriedly cut the light off, going back to her computer to properly log off.

After a few bathroom rituals she was tucked snuggly under her plum purple bed set. It was the first thing she bought after she gained her freedom. She could remember how Malik good-naturedly picked on her as tears fell from her eyes as she made up the bed. A fond smile bloomed across her lips thinking of Malik. He really was the greatest. And in being the greatest, he always encouraged her to face her fears and to simply live in her ambitions. Was one of her ambitions to show her body to this stranger-not-stranger-but-still-having-a-level-of-danger? Rolling onto her back, she grabbed her phone and typed 'Wig shop' into the search bar for the web browser. If she was going to do this, she wasn't going to do it as Isis Ishtar but Dahlia.

 **Tokyo, Japan**

"Marriage…actual marriage." Bakura sounded a thousand miles away as he adjusted the sunglasses on his nose, further reclining back on the lounger around the hotel's premiere rooftop pool. "I know Joey wasn't going to leave the Harpy for anything but pop the question? Bollocks it's shocking." Kaiba nodded in agreement as he sipped a dry martini and nibbled on a crab leg.

When Bakura called him up asking if he'd like to join him for lunch at this local five star hotel he was scoping out for a potential radio sponsored pool party, Kaiba was quick to agree. All morning Yami had been IMing him with the threat of coming to his office to talk wedding plans. Yami didn't understand that Joey wasn't his child. _Or_ that Yami didn't have any say in what was going to happen wedding planning wise.

Kaiba was sure he'd at least have Bakura not to talk about the impending engagement and when the obnoxiously yellow Lamborghini Veneno screeched to a halt outside 'Millennial Gaming,' he was sure he'd get just that. But here he sat in a complimentary set of trunks and robe, eating from a seafood platter with an endless supply of alcohol at his disposal, and Bakura wanted to ruin it with real conversation. Oh how his token psychopath had let him down.

"I mean, how do you even know you're ready for marriage?" Bakura reached for the sleek black e-cig he had a patent on, as he puffed at the blueberry vapors. "Do you roll over, look at her and say: 'Well shit, why not ruin my life for love?'"

"I guess." Kaiba had zero intentions of giving this topic any real attention. He'd rather listen to Bakura make lewd comments about the obviously augmented tourist jumping up and down, in front of a man twice her age on the other side of the pool.

"I mean," Bakura re-crossed his legs as he reached for some shrimp, "The lad's gone barmy."

"Whatever." Kaiba crossed his leg, now watching the bimbo cheerfully run to the diving board where she kept jumping, everything jiggling, before chickening out, giggling back to her elderly sponsor. "If that's what Joseph wants to do…"

Bakura finally caught sight of the buxom woman, but much to Kaiba's distress, his eyes didn't stay there. Instead they shot over to the brunet downing another crab leg. "You'd bite your arm off to be in his spot, wouldn't you?"

Kaiba looks over just to see Bakura raise his shades, giving him a commercial worthy wink before placing the name-brand blockers back in place. "Looks like the sun is fucking with your head – I read albinos don't do well with long exposure."

"Fuck you," Bakura hisses as a large shrimp slaps against the side of Kaiba's head. "Come clean mate, you want to be wed with a few shits running around, huh?" The man then reaches over retrieving the shrimp for consumption.

"Oh yeah, because Yami's zoo seems _real_ appealing."

"I use to find kids totally naff, but I don't know," he shrugs in a very human way which is rare for such a demon, "Ryou's cool."

" _Cool_?" Kaiba could not believe this. Bakura was complimenting Ryou? He wondered just how accurate that 'albino's in the sun' jab was.

"He's a fucking cry baby. He's well on his way to being a nesh wimp, but that's why I'm here. Whenever Tea's not looking, I give him proper fatherly guidance. Have to make sure we get manly affairs sorted and all that."

"Which is why you don't have any level of custody." Kaiba chuckled when he felt that glare burn into his side profile, his head turned, too busy admiring the busty foreigner who was back to her diving board antics.

"Fuck you Kaiba. That's why you're a piss poor lay."

"Yeah, because you and I have fucked."

Bakura reached between them for another piece of shrimp that made it to his mouth on the first try. "I don't have to fuck you to know your willy's out of commission."

"Thanks for the concern but its fine."

"Prove it."

Kaiba took his eyes away from the heaving bosom to that of the grinning man beside him. "What?"

"Whip your willy out and show me how you got that gold medal in wanking for the Lonely Olympics."

Flipping off the man, Kaiba got up to get another drink. He wasn't drunk enough to be around Bakura. After ordering two shots and another martini, he turned his back to the bartender and took in the well stacked woman who finally dove into the pool. The moment she came up, a whistling noise permeated the air and Kaiba knew that mating call all too well. Sure enough, Bakura was posed like the douche he was: hands linked together, cushioning his head, with his legs spread wide, showing off his bulge. The woman looked around dumbly before spotting him and sexily coming out of the pool; even having the nerve to fling her hair back like some shitty 80s super star actress. Strutting over to him, he motioned with his foot for her to have a seat and she very well did. Kaiba shot his eyes across the pool and found her sponsor nowhere to be found. Perhaps the man had dialysis that morning and gave all he could at the pool, retiring to his room for a nap. Regardless, by the time Kaiba threw back his shots and made his way back to Bakura, the Brit had his tongue down the woman's throat, and a hand down the front of her bikini. Kaiba never understood how women trusted _those_ hands so quickly and easily.

"You want in on this mate? She's down for multiples?" Bakura groaned as the woman sucked a dark mark into his neck.

Kaiba threw back his martini and checked his watch, "Nope. Headed back to the office." Even if he didn't have work, like hell he'd share a woman with Bakura. He already felt unclean sharing that seafood platter. "Don't get any STDs _again_." He waved in response to the Brit's middle finger.

Stumbling back to the locker-room, Kaiba quickly sent a text to his transportation team to move his car to the 'Millennial Gaming' parking garage, and to also pick him up in fifteen. He was good and buzzed and had no business being behind the wheel. He may not have been responsible enough not to get drunk on his lunch break, but he still had enough sense not to drive. After changing back into his suit, placing his borrowed items in the laundry hamper inside the locker-room; and primping his hair in the mirror, he took his time to the elevator since his balance was a little playful. Entering the steel box, he pressed the 'L' for the lobby and waited as he dropped the twenty floors down.

Being alone, and inebriated, caused his mind to wander through the conversation he'd just shared with Bakura. Bakura rarely showed emotions outside of anger; he was more primal with his moods. Sassy when sleepy, impatient when hungry, or even sarcastic when horny. You learned about these cues after being friends with the guy for almost ten years. He could still remember that trip he, Yami, Joey, and some others they knew at the time took to London one summer. The very trip where they met Bakura Garrett-Fairchild.

What started as a trip all about sports and museums, ended with threesomes and alcohol, after a white-haired man aggressively invited them to his nightclub while on a subway train through the city. They later found out this man was older than them, a complete psycho, recognized Yami and Kaiba thanks to their money making fathers; and his name was Bakura. Oh, and that he was a psycho in case you missed that. From that day until now, Kaiba had watched Bakura's personality and 'moods' stay consistent, until he did have these rare moment of clarity. Like the brimstone was moved aside and the fumes cleared.

He knew this was happening when Bakura mentioned that Ryou was cool. It's not that Bakura never complimented his son in his own way, it's just he rarely did so, so directly and positively. Kaiba knew this meant the engagement not only had him in a knot, Yami's brain in mother hen mode, but even Bakura's animal brain was discovering what an existential crisis felt like. This worried Kaiba not because he _cared_ - _cared_ about Bakura, but because that meant they were having the same reaction to the same news. The very idea of being in the same emotional boat as Bakura left him a little winded – or was that the shot kicking in? Either way, he didn't want to live in a world where he and Bakura had something in common outside of superficial gain. _Shit_ , his brain was betraying him. He knew this was coming.

He'd been able to distract himself the rest of the weekend, after receiving the news, with his Saturday spent hanging out with his brother. Mokuba did most of the talking, per the usual, and the two even got some gaming in before parting ways. Sunday he got out of 'family brunch' since Mana was under the weather. He'd taken the time to do a bit of housekeeping before working on a new software idea for their projected winter releases. But now, now he was faced with that creeping green monster he wasn't sure how to answer to. Jealousy. Was Seto Kaiba really jealous of the likes of Joseph Wheeler? Heavens no… _right_?

Kaiba was more successful, better looking (in his opinion), _taller_ —he had it all, right? Why would he be jealous that someone as dumb and goofy as Joey met the girl of his dreams by chance, and was now getting to marry her? Why in the world would that make his blood boil and his hands clench to fists, making his demeanor scary enough that when the doors dinged open on floor twelve, the housekeeper politely smiled and waved him on? Kaiba was happy with his life but everyone else was trying to plant seeds of loneliness and other bullshit in his head. Even Dahlia! A woman who barely knew him was able to spot his discontent a mile away. The moment he arrived to the lobby, he strode quickly out the door to the black Maybach S600, where his driver was waiting by the back door. After a brief greeting and opening the door for him, Kaiba slid into leather and luxury. And a _mother_ _fucking_ headache.

"Drunk are we?"

"What are you doing in here?"

Yami preened via his smart-phone with a familial smirk across his lips. "I went to check on Mana."

"Why are you in _my_ car?" If she were there, her mother would cut her eyes to Kaiba with how spoiled he sounded.

"This is the company car and I didn't feel like dealing with traffic." He finally set his phone down and gave his business partner and cousin his full attention. "Things got a little intense as well. I'm too tired to drive anyway."

"Disgusting." Kaiba found himself reaching for the latch of the door, only to be met with child-locks. He glared to the driver, Roland, in the rear-view mirror. The man simply tipped his hat in response. So much for tucking-and-rolling to a taxi.

"How was lunch with Bakura, your new bestie I presume?" Yami's 'butt-hurt' tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Fine." Kaiba crossed his arms pouting out the window.

"And my invite was lost in the mail?"

"Sure."

"Why are you being so cantankerous?"

"Because you smell like sex, I wanted to ride back to work alone, and the drinks were overpriced." I mean, come on! An afternoon martini for twenty bucks? That could have gone to something else.

Yami titled his head to the side and casually reached over, pinching one of Kaiba's nipples through his shirt. The brunet yelped and promptly slapped Yami in the neck. "So you _are_ drunk?" The shorter hissed as he held the red mark splashed across his neck.

Kaiba was nursing his nipple back to health, "You could have just asked you asshole!"

"Like you would have told me the truth!"

"And a nipple pinch is better?!"

"You know your nipples get sensitive when you're drunk! It's a Morcos family trait." Yami rubbed his fingertips into the slap mark that still stung. "Why did you get drunk? We have work to do Seth."

 _Seth_. That meant Yami was either toying with him or irritated. It was safe to say Yami was thoroughly irritated. Yami may be mischievous himself but when it came to their job, he didn't play around. Despite agreeing with Yami that yes, he shouldn't be drunk on the job, he wasn't in the mood for a lecture. He'd much rather argue. "Well _Atem_ , you have spent more than five minutes alone with Bakura, and I'm sure what _you_ _two_ go into" – he shivered in disgust – "required _you_ to be drunk."

Yami actually had the nerve to gasp before grabbing his cousin's hand in true concern. "Seth tell me: did Bakura take your… _man_ - _virginity_?"

Kaiba snatched his hand back so he could use it to slap Yami across the face. "I'm not a slut like you."

Yami, never one for taking Kaiba's abuse, fired back with his own backhanded hit, "I was concerned for you!"

"So that's why you pinched my nipple?" Kaiba's seatbelt was off and he was ready to whoop Yami's ass.

Yami also unbuckled his belt and rolled his sleeves back, "If I didn't care about you, who would?!"

Kaiba lurched forward just as Yami went to head-butt him, his signature move. The scuffle got out of hand fast but Roland wasn't even fazed by the two. He continued to efficiently move the luxury vehicle through the city before coming to a halt right in front of the 'Millennial Gaming' towers. Yami and Kaiba disengaged from the rumble, both sporting the other's blood on their once pressed flat button downs.

"Park in the garage," Yami gruffly ordered as he adjusted his torn suit jacket.

"I don't have clearance Sir."

Kaiba shot his eyes up to the rearview mirror and growled under his breath to the smile he found. Yami also caught this grin and hissed under his breath. Roland had been in the family for the longest – he originally being their fathers' driver. The man was like family and with that being noted, he was making sure to teach them a lesson. Both men looked out the window to the bustling plaza before their respective towers. Many were out in the nice weather, sitting around the fountain, eating their lunch, taking calls, or hailing taxis. Clearing their throats, Yami and Kaiba retrieved a pair of shades they happened to leave in the car and casually got out.

Yami strutted quickly towards the right while Kaiba's long legs rushed him left. Silence fell over the plaza, outside of the refreshing sound of the fountain and overall street noise. It was rare to see the CEOs out so casually on a Monday; it was rare to see the CEOs together. But it was extremely rare to see the CEOs with bloody noses, red stained collars, and torn suits speed walking away from the same car. Kaiba knew Yami would somehow blame the coming rumors on him, but it takes two to rumble dammit.

 **Las Vegas, Nevada**

"How about this one?"

Isis turned around to spot Malik in a hideous brunette 'mom-bob.' "Malik…"

The man placed a hand on his hip, the other hand extending just the index finger, all other tucked in the palm. "I demand to speak to the manager this instant."

Isis kept in a snort as she laughed behind her hand, looking around at the other wig store shoppers to see if they were in on her brother's antics. "Malik stop! This is serious work."

"OK, OK," he grinned as he removed the wig and placed it back on the mannequin head. "I mean, some people would be into that look." She simply stared. "OK, OK, gosh!"

Isis went back to eyeing a certain red curly number. "Too…red…and curly?"

"Wow Sherlock, you sure cracked the case on that one."

" _Malik_!" She almost begged. "I have zero experience with picking out wigs so I need your help!" It didn't help she was nervous as anything too.

"You so do honey," Malik sassed as he removed them from the aisle of current hair. "I said it in the car on the way here and I'll keep saying it: go blonde."

Isis heaved a sigh, "But then I'll look like you…"

"So you're afraid of looking perfect?"

She glared, "I mean what if someone links us together? You don't live a discreet life."

"Do you really think I'd care about being tied to some hot sex worker?" He rolled his eyes, fingering a blue banged wig.

"Hmm…" Though Isis was concerned with looking like Malik, she was more concerned with looking stupid as a blonde. Not stupid in a ' _wow that's not flattering at all_ ' type of way, but stupid in a ' _wow, you're trying way too hard_ ' kind of way. Does the Chairman even like blondes? What if he saw the golden locks and immediately hung up? She could feel herself about to back out.

"Isis, you're doing it."

"Doing what?" She failed at coming off nonchalant when her voice cracked.

" _Reeelaaax_ , it's just a wig. Find something you like and buy it – this is all so simple."

This is why she brought Malik along; he was her better half when it came to things like this. While she constantly weighed pros and cons with appearance changes, her brother dived in head first. Like recently: Malik had his golden dreads combed out, got an undercut, and currently had what was left of his hair pulled into a neat 'man-bun.' Oh how she wished she could be more fearless. She had to remind herself that's exactly what she was planning to do, and the first step was getting this hair.

"Now," Malik began as he reached for a platinum blonde bone straight unit, "this will give Shakira a run for her money." He gently placed it on her head and took step back.

"Well?"

He frowned, craning his neck around the store before his eyes lit up. "Wait here!" Malik scurried across the store as Isis stood there, refusing to look in the mirror. Upon his return, she found another wig in his hand. This one was also platinum blonde, but with the prefect simple wave to it. Removing the last idea, Malik placed the new one on her head and swiveled her around.

The moment Isis looked in the mirror, she gasped at just how much her eyes popped. Sure with her midnight locks and cinnamon skin it was impossible for her eyes _not_ to pop, but this blonde just added a whole new element to things. "Oh my goodness…"

Malik suddenly appeared in the mirror next to her, the last wig on his head. "Well?"

"I think we found it."

"Sisters." His duck face ensued.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't deny how easily (and often mistaken for) Malik appeared as her sister with the long platinum wig on. "With this hair, yes, yes we are."

"So is this it?"

She nodded, a smiling blooming across her lips, "Yes, yes it is."

"Dahlia…is born!" Malik whipped around, pointing to the tall pale fellow wearing a lovely aqua toned wig that reached well past his waist. "Bag this one up my good fellow!" The man blinked his heterochromia eyes and motioned to a young brunette girl who rushed to the back to find the display wig for sale.

After the purchase, Malik and Isis walked from the premiere wig store, 'Dartz's Do's', and headed down the busy walkways of the mall. Without even communicating, the siblings ended up in the food court, more than ready to get their hands on whatever smelled so good. It happened to be the new Chinese stand that was built over the last month. They quickly ordered and sat down for some perfect and greasy mall food.

"Are you still feeling good about the wig?" Malik asked as he stole some Mongolian beef from Isis' plate.

She nodded, not even phased by the steal, "I think it's perfect."

"You should have worn it out the store."

Isis snorted, "No thank you. This is a business only…style."

"Boss ass bitch status!" He grabbed his phone tapping the air-horn app a few times for good measure.

"Please stop." She grabbed a pack of soy sauce, willing her cheeks to stop burning as she ignored the table behind them, chuckling over her brother's ridiculous behavior.

He showed mercy this time and put his device down. "So, are you only doing hair?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged slurping a lo mein noodle, "I mean, do you want to add contacts, costumes, and makeup to this? You could really take this far."

Isis hadn't even considered this, only getting as far as the wig. Sighing in exasperation over just how helpful Malik was, she cocked her head to the side, "How are you capable of being so supportive? I just don't understand."

"I know most siblings, brothers no less, wouldn't be too thrilled about their sister aspiring to be a web-cam girl, but," he shrugs, "you believed in my ideas so all I can do is believe in you."

Isis knew this was not the right place or time to feel her eyes burn and a tear drop, but it was happening. She grabbed a napkin to dab at her eyes as her brother rolled his eyes. Isis randomly tearing up wasn't anything new since she fled Cairo, so he wasn't surprised. "Thank you Mailk."

"Stop being a big baby and eat your beef; we need to go to the lingerie shop next since you and your love for granny panties can't be trusted to pick anything out."

"For the last time, I do not wear granny panties."

" _Riiight_ ," he winked. Isis went to retort when Malik's phone went off, playing some popular rap song about tattoos. Duke was calling. Malik quickly answered, "Hey bossman." He pressed his index finger into his ear trying to hear the call over the roar of the patrons. It wasn't working so Malik mouthed ' _be_ _back'_ to Isis before walking towards the bathroom area.

Isis continued eating alone, occasionally taking a peek at the wig in her bag. She wondered how it would turn out on camera. Grabbing a napkin to wipe her mouth, she knew she'd need to bust out her rusty make up skills, and she definitely wanted to do a few costumes. But contacts? Was that a good idea? What color would she even pick? Grabbing her phone, she brought up a few colored lenses that looked good on a few models that looked similar to her. But she wasn't really feeling the idea of hiding such a personal and important part of herself. Yes, it was just eyes, but for Isis it was more. Without Isis there was no Dahlia. So she was going to go into this, bearing at least one piece of herself for all to see.

She clicked away from the contact lenses website and instead pulled up the lingerie shop located in the mall. While scrolling through their new arrivals, her phone vibrated, alerting her of an email. Her professor had yet to post the location of where there final would be, so she quickly went to her inbox to investigate. Opening the application, she found the message was from the last person she ever expected: Odion. Odion Rishid Essam was Isis' ex-brother-in-law and also the only person left in Egypt who _only_ showed kindness and care towards her. Suddenly her stomach cramped and her hands began to shake as she tapped on the email open:

' _Is salaam 'alaykum Isis,_

 _I'm hoping you still have the same email address. It's been almost two years and I haven't heard from you or of you, from your family. I simply wanted to check in and see how you were. Feel free to ignore this message if you feel it's not in good taste, but I really do hope all is well and Allah has blessed you._

 _I wish I was contacting you simply to check in and wish blessings upon you, but there is more to this than just that. Whether you have or have not heard of this, I am here to confirm it: Shadi has remarried. I write this as me and my wife help in cleaning up after the celebrations. I…I wasn't sure if I should tell you. But even now, I feel the need to protect you from him and anything that could potentially be said based upon hearsay, which could hurt you. I am so sorry the first time I contact you, it comes with things attached. Please forgive me for this._

 _If you are ever back in town, always know you are welcome in my home and my wife shares the same sentiments._

 _Ma'is salaama,_

 _Odion Rishid'_

Isis stared at the message, not sure what to say, feel, or how to react. She kept rereading it until it sound like gibberish in her brain, and even then, kept going back over the words. Upon spotting Malik making an excited beeline back in her direction, she placed her phone back in her purse and found now was not the time to entertain the past.

"What has you grinning from ear-to-ear?" Malik immediately picked up on her change in mood and showed that by making a face. "Don't worry, just school emails."

He nodded, too excited to dig deeper at the moment. "We need to go to the tattoo shop ASAP. I'm sorry to cut the mall trip so short—"

"No, no, no," Isis said as she started gathering up the to-go containers, "That's fine. I'm kind of over this trip anyway."

"Oh, did you bomb a test or something?" He scooted in his chair, throwing the trash away.

Isis shrugged, "No, but I could have done better." It wasn't a lie, she just taking things out of context.

Malik was none the wiser and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, "You win some and lose some."

"So I've heard."

The twosome made their way out to the parking lot to Malik's awaiting matte black classic. Isis was glad once they were inside and the engine was too loud to have a conversation. The shitty traffic also took her mind off things with Malik honking, yelling curse words at every corner. These were all welcome distractions from what she knew was an impending breakdown.

PLEASE READ:

I…I am not too sure what to say this time around. I am just so grateful and happy I was able to finish this chapter to some level of satisfactory. I'm sorry if it felt abrupt, rushed, or out of step from the first to the end, but here it is in all its imperfect glory.

Arabic Words:

Is salaam 'alaykum – Hello/peace be upon you

Ma'is salaama – Goodbye

Posted especially for:

Thank you guys for understanding my situation and willing to wait for me. These past few days I have felt more like myself which has been a relief. Thank you all so much again! I feel grateful to have you as readers! XOXO

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!

Well I'm Out.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I only accept constructive criticism.

10-10-2-Do-Me

Chapter 8

Caller Unavailable

* * *

"Get one with me."

"For the last time, no." Isis adjusted her sunglasses as her brother pulled his American classic into a parking spot marked 'reserved.'

"Come on, we bonded over the piercings." Malik paused as he reached into the backseat for his Ed Hardy messenger bag, returning to the front with a wide grin, "Now all we need are matching tattoos."

"No." Isis undid her seatbelt and got out of the car, a cool cup of bubble tea in her right hand. Since Malik felt guilty for cutting their mall adventure short, he was sure to buy her forgiveness with a quick bubble tea stop. Isis didn't need to be bought, but she sure did love bubble tea. "You know how I feel about tattoos."

Malik waved his hand around from the other side of the car as if to say ' _that was then, this is now_.' "But you felt that way about piercings." He hip checked his door and chirped the car locked.

"That was just me attempting to take a chance. Seems it backfired…"

Malik stuck his tongue out as he threw an arm around her neck, "All the more reason _not_ to stick to your guns, _again_."

The pair made their way into a tattoo and piercing parlor done up in sleazy red crushed velvet seating, jade colored chandeliers, and black painted walls covered in photos, shiny car parts, and tattoo art. Who would have guessed this was the headquarters of one of one of Vegas' top parlors? Surely not Isis the first time Malik had given her the grand tour of three tattoo rooms, two piercing rooms, and a stock room that doubled as an employee lounge, that created 'Black Crown Ink'. But the endless wall of celebrity photos posing with their artists said otherwise. Even now she could hear the whirring of needles and some giggling out-of-towner coming from the back of the shop.

"Isis, _hello_." A tall brawny man with blonde hair wearing a Harvey Davidson logoed bandana, ripped sleeved style tank-top, and a pair of shades, shot her a greasy smile. "You're looking particularly _hot_ today."

Isis didn't even acknowledge him, per the usual. Despite the constant come on, she could always depend on her brother to overreact. As she made her way to a seat, Malik was hopping across the counter to jump on the man's back. "I should kill you Bandit."

Keith Howard, known as 'Bandit' to most, was one of the skilled tattoo artists of the shop. Keith was from the small tourist town of Rapid City, South Dakota. He grew up with a park ranger mother for the Black Hills National Forest which houses the iconic Mount Rushmore; and a motor-head father who worked for a local garage until August rolled in, then he was off on his road king, cruising roughly 29 miles west to Sturgis to be a staff member for one the largest motorcycle rallies in American history. Keith considered himself a ' _goddamn_ _conservationist'_ and ' _badass motor enthusiast_ ' to the core. When the man wasn't in town, you could usually find him in the middle of nowhere Nevada; his cherry red custom 1991 Ford Bronco equipped with the American flag billowing on the side, with his Harley Davidson fatboy chopper hitched upright in the back, parked right next to his small campsite. One of his prized tattoos was across his shoulders and read: ' _Endangered_ _Species_.' His mom thought it was creative and his father called him a dumbass.

Keith chuckled, easily supporting Malik's weight on his strong back, "You'll go to prison for killing an endangered species." Malik flicked his ear before Keith shook him off. "Here with the stuff?"

"I'm a responsible boss, why wouldn't I?" Malik set his messenger bag on the counter top and proceeded to pull out a thick black binder. "Which one did he want?"

"That Red Eyes Black Dragon one you did." Keith puffed air through his nose, "Fuckin' nerd."

"More like fuckin' _genius_ ," Malik returned as he flipped through his personal tattoo sketchbook. "You have to appeal to all markets. You'd know this if you weren't such a tool."

"Hurry up and give me the sketch pretty boy." Malik removed the piece of paper still in its plastic casing and placed it in the man's hand.

"When is he coming to get it done?"

Keith shrugged as he headed towards the back, to scan it into their system, "Beats me—he's an international kid so he'll call back with an appointment."

Malik nodded as he slid his belongings back in his bag, looking over the counter to find his sister daintily sitting on a crushed velvet arm chair, leg crossed and sipping her bubble tea. "Let me run to the back for a moment and then we can go." Isis nodded as she watched Malik follow after Keith.

Slowly she stood, taking in the different photographs on the wall of some celebrities she recognized, and others she couldn't place anywhere. A tapioca pearl passed between her lips as her eyes landed on a particular photograph. Malik was posing (both hands overlapping on his right knee as he arched his back, booty popped outward) next to a man's back. He was holding up his long sliver hair and looking over his shoulder; a single brown eye seen, glinting with mischief as he smirked. His tanned back was covered in a large pearly white cartoon type of Pegasus. The creature looked like a 'My Little Pony' knock-off of the Greek creature and both men in the picture were quite pleased about it.

She heard returning footfalls, "Malik, who is this man?" She pointed with her right hand as she looked over her shoulder. She assumed the footsteps belonged to Malik but they'd actually been Keith's.

"What was that sweetheart?" Casually he came over and glanced at the photo. A smirk spread across his lips. "That man is your boss' boss' boss' boss'," he waved his hand around, " _etcetera_ , boss."

"This is Maximillion?" Maximillion Pegasus was the current owner of 'Illusion Entertainment'—the same company that owned '10-10-2-Do-Me.' He looked nothing like the well put together, tailored suit wearing man the company often showed off on their intranet homepage. "Why on earth would he get a cartoon Pegasus tattooed on his back?"

"If you were here that day, you wouldn't be asking that." Keith made his way back behind the counter, "He's a total fruit—strange too."

"Don't bad mouth the clientele Bandit." The shop door's bell gave a delayed ring as Duke Devlin strolled in, motorcycle helmet under his left arm, "Especially the rich ones."

"I call 'em like I see 'em, Dukey."

Duke rolled his eyes, suddenly finding Isis in his vision. "Did Malik talk you into the tattoo?"

"Tattoo?" Keith leaned against the glass on his elbows, "I'd _love_ to tattoo you. You can hold my hand…" he winked, "if it hurts."

"Oh my goodness," Isis scoffed and a bit shy from the wink, "I am not getting a tattoo and that's that."

"But that's what you said about the piercing," Duke countered as he placed his helmet on the glass surface, shrugging out of his riding jacket, before retrieving the protective headpiece. Everyone knew the ' _no personal items on the counter_ ' rule. "Come on, there _has_ to be something you can stand to look at every day."

Duke caught a sudden flash of discomfort across Isis' eyes before she turned away, suddenly interested in another photo. Letting out a sigh, he mouthed to Keith to ' _beat it_ ,' and after a game of ' _who can be the most creative in flipping each other off_ ' — Duke winning with his ol' 'Naruto jutsu hands' that end with double birdies — he made his way over to Isis in a room that now housed just the two of them.

"Isis…"

"Yes Duke?"

"How are—"

Slowly she turned around, his words dying behind his lips, "Duke. I'm fine. Really." Her smile conveyed otherwise, but he returned it with a smirk of his own that died into a frown.

"I'm guessing you're not really feeling Japan, huh?"

"Japan?" She hated that her moment of weakness was discovered by Duke, but the whole ' _something you can stand to look at everyday_ ' comment brought to the surface that newlywed couple she was trying to mentally avoid. They were all the way on the other side of the world and here she was giving them energy. She was grateful to swap to the other- _other_ side of the world and get the bottom of this Japan business. "What about Japan?"

Malik finally returned just in time to tackle his best-friend into one of the crush velvet couches. The pair landed with Duke facedown covered by Malik, the motorcycle helmet clattering to the floor. " _Sssshhhhh_ , I haven't asked her yet!"

"Dude, your dick is poking me in the leg."

"Bro, my anaconda is too big for _your_ pants."

Duke glanced down, "Those _are_ my pants; I've been looking for those!"

"You could have called and asked me. I would have _totally_ lied to you."

Just as the two began wrestling, Isis cleared her throat. Both looked up at her as she sipped her bubble tea, blinking her eyes rapidly as she swallowed. "What is this about Japan?"

" _Riiight_ …" Malik stood up and pulled Duke to his feet as well. " _Weeelll_ , there's this guy named Maximillion Pegasus—"

" _Your_ boss." Duke winked.

"And Duke's obsession." Malik snickered.

"As well as _your_ boss…?" Isis inquired. Duke did sit next to her at the hotline headquarters.

Duke frowned as he grabbed his helmet, thwacking Malik in the gut with it. "I see he really didn't tell you anything about our phone call. Wow. And I'm not obsessed with him dumbass."

Isis frowned, "Did you quit?"

"I was fired," Duke smirked knowingly. " _Maxipad_ found out I was sneaking around trying to get an inside scoop of his company and canned me. But it's all good. Now you can get wild on the phone without it coming back to Malik."

"Oh joy." That would explain why the already accomplished Duke Devilin worked part-time at a sex phone hotline. She cleared her throat, "But what does that have to do with Japan?"

Malik wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders, "As you can see," he led her back over to the photo of Maximillion and himself, "he loves my work but he loves me more, _sooo_ he wants me to come out to Tokyo and add some more art to that pony of his."

"I thought he was American? Is he not able to come here?"

"Oh he is," Duke joined them by the photo, his eyes taking in Malik's piece once more, "but he actually lives part-time in Japan. I'm a little fuzzy on the specifics as to why, but at this point, I really don't care. Not only is he paying to fly us out and for Malik's services, but he's also letting us stay in some condo he owns in Domino City."

" _Domino_ …?" The place sounded familiar on Isis' tongue but she couldn't quite place it. "Where is that?"

"It's about thirty to forty-five minutes east of Tokyo," Duke filled in. "Domino to Tokyo is kind of how Reno is to Vegas."

"Hmm, so why would he place you two almost an hour from where he actually is?"

Duke shrugged, "He told us he has business to handle in Domino, so he'll be traveling back and forth. He also said Tokyo traffic is horrible, so Domino's just a good spot for his time. Like I said, I really don't care about specifics; especially when someone else is footing the bill."

"Why are you going if Malik is doing the tattoo?"

"Because Duke is obsessed with the guy." Malik had the nerve to look disappointed in Isis, "I mean _obsessed_."

" _Actually_ ," Duke began through gritted teeth as he pinched Malik's nonexistent love-handle, "it's because Malik is my humble apprentice and I am the owner of 'Black Crown Ink.' I can't have a mega client like Maxi disappointed with the work and ruin me. I have to go."

Malik rolled his eyes, "You _know_ why he's going Isis. _Obsession_ causes—"

The business owner slapped his friend on the ass. "Maybe I want to gloat that I lasted a few months at 10-10 before he sniffed me out." Duke simpered as he rounded the counter, setting his helmet down below. "I can't miss out on a chance to ruffle his feathers."

"Because he's a _Pegasus_?" Malik's idiotic wink was returned two-fold by Duke who coupled it with double hand guns. "And because you're obsessed."

Duke frowned, "I wish my hands were real guns."

Isis rolled her eyes, "It does sound like fun."

"Good because you're invited." Malik gave her bottom a motherly pat.

Isis popped a brow at her brother, "I can't. I have—"

"Vacation days sitting around that you never use," Duke cut in. "Why not get a change of scenery? Have you ever been to Japan?"

Isis furrowed her brow, "Does the airport count?"

"No," Malik supplied.

"Then no."

"Good, you're going." Malik gave her a wink and Duke gave her a thumbs up.

"I never said I was."

"Sounds like it to me," Duke grinned at his blonde friend, "what did you hear Malik?"

"I heard yes…in Arabic."

"Malik!"

 **That Evening**

Isis stood in her bedroom as her laptop supplied her with season three of Downton Abbey. She was watching the series for a second time, trying to recapture all the dramatic and time period appropriate moments yet again. A laundry basket of clothes sat by her feet as she took her time folding and hanging garments, preparing for the work week. Just as a maid tapped on the door of her mistress on screen, a cadenced set of taps resounded from her door. Malik casually walked in a moment later, standing next to her to take in what she was watching.

" _Again_?"

"It's one of my favorite shows." Malik shrugged as he plopped down on her bed, pausing the laptop. "What do you want?" She asked in a patient almost sing-songy way. She already knew.

"Are you putting in your vacation days tomorrow? Duke said it's best to request them as early as possible."

"I am still undecided and you know that."

"At least put in your vacation days so they can get approved. You can always show up if you change your mind."

She tucked a towel under her chin as she grabbed the bottom, looking right at Malik, "Give me some time to think it over."

"What is there to think about? Two weeks in Japan, Isis! The ticket is free, the lodging is free—all you have to do is show up. Hell, I'll even make sure your meals, entertainment, and souvenirs are free."

"This isn't about money Malik."

"Then what is it?" He flopped over on his side, tapping the spot next to him. Isis placed her items down and hopped on the bed with him. "What happened today, hm?"

She closed her laptop, setting it out of the way. "What do you mean?"

"At the mall, what was that email? Did it really involve school?"

She bit her bottom lip as those newly suppressed feelings started pouring in, making eye contact with her brother scarce. "No."

"What was it?" His eyes got big, "Did _Umm_ contact you?" He gasped, "Did _Abi_?"

Isis shook her head and attempted to respond only to find a huge lump in her throat. So she got up. She grabbed her cellphone, and returned to her spot on the bed, thumbing through the new emails to get to the old ones. She pulled it up and passed the phone off to Malik. "Please read."

Malik's vision narrowed as he deciphered the message in Arabic. It wasn't until he was almost done that his eyes grew small; narrowed and angry. "I know my reading of Arabic needs work but did this fucker get _re_ married?"

Isis nodded before taking her phone back, locking it before Malik got the bright idea to respond to Odion via her email. It wasn't his fault, he was just the messenger. "That's exactly what happened."

"If he cared about you like he fucking claimed, why the fuck would he tell you this hurtful ass news?" Malik was now sitting up, glaring a hole in the wall. "Fuck Odion—"

"Malik—"

"No!" He stood up, "This dude sat back and let Shadi treat you like fucking trash, but was always quick to try and play the nice guy role. If he really felt like his cousin wasn't shit, he would have helped you get out sooner!"

"All Odion did was try and help me Malik, it wasn't his fault."

"Yes it was!"

"Malik please—" She was bubbling over.

"Odion can suck my—"

" _BaTTal da_!" Malik froze in spot as tears streamed down his sister's face.

"Isis—"

"It was my fault!" Endless months of insecurity, pain, and depression exploded as she sobbed helplessly. "I was the one who stayed because I was stupid enough to believe that this was how a marriage worked; that if I wasn't such a terrible wife, he wouldn't say those things to me or allow his family to run all over me. All Odion did was check on me, make sure I was safe, and try his best not to turn his back on his family." The tears intensified as the memories took a stronger picture, "When _Umm_ and _Abi_ refused to even look at me, Odion was the one who drove me to airport where you received me. I am indebted to him and his kindness. This email came from nothing but a good place from a man who out of everyone, never once tried to hurt me. Now I will not sit here and allow you to talk down about him!"

Malik dropped back down on the bed and gathered her up in his arms. There Isis' sobbed in his shoulder. " _Ana_ _asif_." He gently rocked her back and forth, fighting tears himself. "I…I just wasn't there for you when you needed me…a part of me is grateful but also angry that Odion did things for you I should have done..."

"No," Isis hiccupped, "You had your own struggles and I never once faulted you for not returning Egypt. Though you weren't there in person, you were the one who sent me money for clothes. You were the one who took my late night phone calls. And you were the one who made arrangements for me to leave; offering me real hope that there was a life after a failed marriage."

For two years Isis dealt with so much from a man as frigid as ice, and a family who saw her only as a servant. She handled all of this on her own, having lost her friends by the rumors of the shame she brought on her family. Odion was the only one who ever helped her. Even his wife had doubts about Isis at times, but somehow was always encouraged to help via Odion. She was forever indebted to him and just can't allow any ill words spoken about him in her presence.

"I…I'm sure whoever he remarried is ugly as fuck…with her half bun ass…" The sincerity in his words were beyond pure.

Isis half laughed, half sniffled as her brother grabbed a clean sock from her laundry pile, gently dabbing at her eyes. "Thank you."

"Again, I'm sorry."

She took the sock from his hand, replacing it with her warm palm, "It's OK." She kissed the top of his hand and he returned it by kissing hers. "I…I will put in for the vacation. It's obvious I need some time away."

Malik's smile broadened and he smashed his sister against his chest, squeezing her tight. "We're going to have such a good time! We'll do all the sightseeing you want to do. All that old shit that's still standing!"

How well he knew her since Isis was excited at the prospect of seeing historical landmarks in Tokyo and this Domino City. "Wonderful."

"And we'll _totes_ get you laid."

"Malik…"

"…Eaten out?"

No longer having the strength to scold, Isis draped her body as complete dead weight across her now squirming and whining brother. The intention of crushing him withered away as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him close. Malik hugged back, nuzzling his face in her neck.

"I love you Isis."

"I love you, Malik."

 **Domino City, Japan**

Kaiba let the front door of his penthouse slam shut as he kicked out of his shoes. Talk about an annoying _fucking_ day. He gets it, really, he does: seeing the two CEOs of a billion dollar company come out of the same limo covered in blood, _each other's blood_ , is disheartening to the employees. But to start the vicious rumors of ' _mergers gone wrong_ ' to ' _killing for full control of the company_ ', leads to a long-distance call in Arabic from a pissed off father. He knew Yami got a tongue lashing too when he popped up in Kaiba's office looking quite moody about it all. Sure Kaiba felt the sting of his father's disappointment but he wasn't being such a bitch about it. Shit happens.

He loosened his tie as he made a beeline for the kitchen. Thanks to all the hubbub he'd skipped lunch to do damage control; now his stomach was trying to eat itself. After looking through the freezer and fridge, he grabbed a booklet listing all the restaurants in the area. He settled on a particularly tasty pub themed location and dialed in his fish and chips order. By the time he was showered, he heard his front door ding. After a quick transaction and tip, he was sitting in front of his computer of his home office, digital sketchpad in place of his keyboard.

After such a shitty day, nothing was more relaxing than what he deemed as ' _fucking around with holograms_.' Many didn't know the CEO who handled the more technical side to their billion dollar gaming company was also a huge part of character development. He wasn't artistic—such skills reserved for Mokuba. But he enjoyed programming quirks and movements that made their characters so life like. Mokuba always joked that his 'big brother' preferred to program personality than show any. _Little shit_.

Speaking of the kid, Mokuba had been one of the first people to contact him (via text-message) regarding the gossip and hearsay. He quickly typed back a just as lengthy paragraph in response to his brother's inquiries. He even added in the tongue lashing their dad wasn't too kind with. Of course this invoked smug and laughing emojis from his brother. Even now the kid was a brat whenever his older brother got in trouble.

" _Little shit_ ," Kaiba mumbled as he set his phone back down and got back to finishing the script for his monster's menacing walk. Occasionally he popped a fry between his lips or took a chomp out of the beer battered fish. He slowly felt the day's events bleed from his body in a rush of ideas; the anticipation of his creature taking on unique behaviors oddly soothing.

When the last fry entered his mouth his phone suddenly buzzed. He ignored it. That was until the phone started vibrating so often he was sure someone just _had_ to be dead, dying, or planning to kill someone. Or perhaps they tried to kill someone and chickened out halfway through, and now said person was dying? Maybe he should just _fucking_ check.

Flipping the screen up, he was shocked by the amount of texts-messages Yami had sent. Some didn't even make sense while others had the chat bubbles filled to the brim with emojis. This wasn't completely out of character for Yami when he was drunk or announcing yet another pregnancy. But the emojis used didn't follow his usual theme for either scenarios. Kaiba quickly scrolled up and felt the breath leave his lungs at the initial text: the photo of a woman's hand wearing a very familiar slim silver band laden with small diamonds all leading up to the 3 carat oval cut aquamarine diamond. The caption read in English: ' _She fuckin' said yes_!'

 _Ho_. _Ly_. _Fuck_.

Kaiba realized his jaw was hanging down when that lone French fry attempted to jump for freedom from his molars, landing with a thud against his phone.

It _happened_.

Yami's tirade of blowing up the group text with congratulations in every language the man could think of continued, followed by a video of his cousin looking teary-eyed as he praised Joey on his ' _bravery'_ and ' _attentiveness to love_.' Even Mokuba posted a ring, praying hands, and celebration emojis followed by a very enthusiastic ' _congrats_.' Kaiba immediately felt the pressure to respond even though he suddenly felt as salty as the French fry still sitting on his screen. Before he could make a decision on what to say, his phone was going off. He answered without hesitation.

" _What_?"

He could tell Bakura was chugging something, most likely dark liquor. "What the _FUCK_ just happened?!"

"Joey got engaged you idiot."

" _I'M_ the idiot?! I didn't go throw my life away by asking some bird to string my willy up by the gallows!"

"You're being dramatic. _Bye_." Kaiba hung up only because Bakura sounded like how he felt, on the _inside_. Fuck it was a bad day when he related to the nut case. Not the whole 'dick by the gallows' in that exact context but close.

Kaiba's thumb's hovered over the keyboard for a good five minutes before he sent his response: ' _Finally_. _Cool_.' He paused before sending it – he added a thumbs up emoji just in case. In case of what? If he sounded more salty than ironic. He finally hit send, put his phone on silent, and flipped it over. His body sagged in the chair as he dropped his head back and let out a loud drawn out ' _FUUUCK_!' followed by burying his face in his hands.

There would be engagement events leading up to what would most likely be a destination wedding. And he'd have to be present for it all because _of course_ Joey was going to formally ask him to be a groomsman and _of course_ Kaiba wasn't a _complete_ dick, so he'd begrudgingly accept. And then he'd have to watch that big goofy grin as Joey sheepishly scratched at the back of his head, picking between suspenders and bowties. Yami would suggest bowties but Joey would totally want suspenders. And the bachelor party? Kaiba felt sick. The fish, the fries – this _engagement_ was NOT agreeing with him.

"Nope," suddenly Kai was on his feet gathering up his trash, "nope, nope, nope… _nooope_." He bee-lined it for the kitchen to throw his items away before escaping to his bedroom.

He crawled under his sheets and programmed the lights off. If the world was going to fuck him over, then he'd just got to bed early. But who could sleep with his mind racing at Mach speeds. _He_. _Didn't_. _Want_. _To_. _Think_. _About_. _This_. _At_. _All_. He needed a distraction. A mega distraction. He grabbed the non-work affiliated laptop he kept by his bed.

He opened a very familiar website screen. He didn't have time to entertain this, he'd rather get his dick entertained. Well, have his hand entertain his dick. The specifics didn't matter, all that did matter is Dahlia _had_ to be online. He wanted familiarity tonight; someone predictable and only down for what he wanted. Kaiba needed some selfish time before he lost his shit completely. Many would call this a tantrum but he was an adult dammit! And adults lose their shit.

The _'10-10-2-Do-Me'_ site assured him that Dahlia was not only online, but also available. He clicked and typed so fast, he was hitting send before he knew it.

 _The_Chairman is typing... 'Good evening Dahlia. I didn't expect to catch you.'_ He needed to be casual, sexy, cool—the Chairman. Not Seto ' _losing my shit_ ' Kaiba.

 _TheBlackDahlia is typing… 'I didn't expect to catch you either. ;) Are you ready to see me?'_

Kaiba felt his mouth go dry. That's right! Per their previous conversation, he requested to see…her. But he was drunk then. Kaiba could easily fix the whole being sober thing, but he had a bad feeling drinking tonight would lead to some accidental shenanigans. So that was out. He wondered if he looked wrecked but in a nonsexual way? Surely he could pull himself together for a quick video session. If he could hold a huge a board meeting with a broken big toe that he didn't even know was broken (though Yami nagged that it was), then he could easily muster a poker face for cybersex.

The next issue: was he really ready to see Dahlia? The lack of knowledge of her looks added to the fantasy, but what if seeing this woman ruined everything? What if he wasn't attracted to her? A lot was riding on this fap, like, a _whole_ _lot_. Wait. Why he even questioning what he was going to do if he wasn't attracted to the sex worker? He would just find someone else. There were always 'camgirls of the month' listed on the front page. A few had caught his eye in the past so no, this wasn't as big a deal as he was making it. Sure he wanted familiarity but he needed to get off and that was more important than understanding. Dahlia was a business woman, not his online girlfriend. If he didn't like what he saw, his disappearance as a client wouldn't surprise her.

 _The_Chairman is typing… 'Mmm…what are you wearing?'_

 _TheBlackDahlia is typing... 'Why not see for yourself? ;) '_

Fuck it. _The_Chairman is typing… 'Give me one moment.'_

Kaiba jumped up from his computer and made a beeline for his closet. After retrieving his lotion, tissues, and as an afterthought, put on a white button down and tie to follow his persona, he returned to his bed, and adjusted the lighting. If Dahlia was going to put on a show the least he could do was return the favor. He did a quick angle check on his webcam, making sure you could only see mouth down. Just as he was about to put in for a video chat he stopped. What if he got too excited and somehow revealed his full face? Kaiba found himself back in his closet digging through a drawer of forgotten clothes items. There he found a black lace mask he once wore to a borderline orgy masquerade ball Bakura invited him to three years ago. After it was secured on, he returned to his bed and adjusted the webcam accordingly. The view of man sitting against a headboard, in a black lace mask, button down and tie, flanked by two abstract paintings (done by his brother) was perfect. Finally he hit the button for the video chat.

Approximately three minutes went by before a legal terms and agreement populated that he had to read and accept before the video would start. He did a quick skim, and clicked accept. A spinning set of lips worked as the implication that things were connecting. Suddenly the video went full screen with his image a small insignificant square in the corner. But that didn't matter as he took in a backdrop of rich royal purple drapes and silver sconces holding softly burning candles. He assumed the candles used weren't real with how brightly they shined, creating the perfect amount of lighting to cause the woman staring intensely at him in the perfect golden glow.

On a bed of cream colored cushions, a woman lied in a very Cleopatra-type way. Her upper body rested on a higher stack of pillows, elbow supporting her head in her hand. The other arm draped across her stomach with her legs daintily crossed at the ankles. She wore a black off the shoulder long-sleeved snug sweater that stopped just above her thick black thigh high socks. The woman had platinum blonde hair in a wavy pattern that was pulled up into a top knot, with the rest hanging gently down around her shoulders. Her lips were painted a dull red, her eyes lined in smoky allure. This caused the sapphire blue eyes to pop out against the backdrop of an elegantly featured face.

"…Dahlia…" He murmured. Of course his expensive laptop picked up the nearly whisper and the woman shyly smiled, fluttering the fingers of the resting hand in a demure wave.

"Hello Chairman."

* * *

PLEASE READ:

HELLO MY PEOPLE! Let me start the groveling now… I am so sorry for the delay. Had some new job hiccups, my dad finally remarried (and yes, my step mom is awesome), moved to a new apartment, partied hard for Halloween, had a chill b-day (shout out to my fellow Scorpios, Kaiba included), then allowed this time of year's depression to set in. I'm so glad Emo-Kaiba will be making an appearance soon so I can flood him with all my sad holiday feels. Hahaha. Thank you guys so much for sticking it out with me! The next chapter guarantees hot times.

Arabic Words:

Umm – Mother

Abi – Father

BaTTal da – Stop it!

Ana asif – I'm sorry (masculine)

Posted especially for:

All of you readers, reviewers, long time readers of my bullshit, newcomers of my bullshit, flamers, trolls, and lovers of Mexican food. I love you all and seriously, you guys have kept me going through my depression these past few months. I'm so grateful for your encouraging reviews and just liking and caring about what I love doing so much. Thank you. (Insert ugly cry here)

 **Still stands** : If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

 **REVIEW!**

 **Well I'm Out.**


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